Space Outlaws 4: Iron Men
by Belashkal
Summary: A collab between me and Max Jordan. The Eds suit up again against a new malign threat to the Galaxy, this time the ancient threat of the Necrontyr. Finished after too many years! Should actually need an M rating for the violence on some places but... nah!
1. Two Minutes to ED

Chapter 1 - Two Minutes to ED

_"Has he lost his mind?_

_Can he see or is he blind?_

_Can he walk at all?_

_Or if he moves will he fall?"_

**                 --Excerpt from Black Sabbath's Iron Man**

 The soft light of dusk filtered through the window of his room, as Edd entered it after a long day. A very long day... He sat down in his chair and rolled out the plans he'd been carrying onto his desk. Unwillingly, as he looked the plans over, his eyes traced to the file in his bookshelf, containing all the paper copies of the adventures they had as Outlaws. The originals were actually ones and nils in his computer, and he'd given a copy of them to McKenzie. Edd had met with McKenzie often before he began thinking of his grades more than his psychics. The Master Lexicanum had taught a way to retain his powers, and it had worked surprisingly well. Edd was as powerful now as when he'd donned the powered armour of a Space Outlaw. That was now nearly three years ago. Back then, Edd and his two friends had been in the age of twelve. Now they all aged 15, and high school was looming in the horizon. Things had, startling quickly, gone back to normal. Rolf seemed to endure well the memories of the legendary Commissar-general. There were, however, parts of the memories he never talked about, and McKenzie had told Edd why... Oh, the pain that Rolf's doppelganger had gone through... Still, Rolf was a common aim for their scams, but his attitude towards the Eds had warmed. Much to Kevin's fury. At times, Kevin reminded Edd of the Dark Lord they'd fought and defeated. 

 'So happy Kevin ain't a Marine...' Edd thought to himself as he went back to the plans. Although Rolf shrugged their scams off with a hearty laugh, the other kids didn't. They had the same attitude towards the Eds, and the bad luck of Eddy's ideas hadn't changed. Edd was just so happy Eddy's bad luck hadn't been around as an Outlaw... Well, it had, Edd reminded himself. Eddy had nearly been crushed by Kharn, as his leg-servo locked itself. He'd just been lucky Rolf was awake. Rolf Yarrick, Edd reminded himself again. 

 Their latest scam had been named Crazy Ed's Home Made Bike. They'd just managed to escape from Kevin, as the whole darned thing had fallen apart under Kevin's "molesting" of it. That word suited fine. Kevin always pushed it too far, and as the Eds got chased away, Eddy put it upon Edd to root out any flaws in the construction. They'd been doing it for three times now, if they counted in the new amendments Edd was going to do tonight. 

 Edd found himself thinking why they even bothered to try to pull scams anymore. They were for the Sacred God-Emperor of Mankind 15 years old! And the kids had learned how to see through even their cleverest of scams. Edd settled for the fact that it was a bit of a tradition now. Something to hark back to the past with. To a time of innocence, before the entire thing with the Imperium and company. The scams didn't want to let go, just as the memories they had from their adventures. There were times, when the Eds and Rolf were alone, when they would discuss whatever they could've done better. How they could've stopped Kharn from the beginning, on Armageddon and in the Tower of Doom... 

 The sound hadn't been loud, just so loud that Edd more sensed something was out there, then heard it. His sixth sense, being as evolved as it was with his psychics, could pick up sound waves. So he'd learned from McKenzie. That and more. He could now blind an enemy. Heck, if it was needed, he could even banish lesser deamons back to the Warp they came from. But, as it was an ordinary day, on their summer holidays, Edd decided it couldn't be anything as harmful as a deamon. He was a bit saddened by the thought, in fact. 

 "Wonderful, most probably it is Ed sleepwalking again." Edd said sourly to himself as he went down the stairs and to his backdoor. "I'd better guide him home before he tries to eat Jim again." 

 As Edd fumbled with the lock to the backdoor, he threw a glance out the back window. He didn't see the nearly 1m90 tall klutz that was his life-long friend. It was something entirely else. The sight froze Edd in his tracks. 

 It wasn't Ed, obviously, it was taller, maybe around 2 metres. It's skin was of a glittering surface, given away by the moonlight. Metal skin, it seemed, so it was a shocking conclusion that passed through Edd's mind: Robot! The gleaming red eyeslits of it made it look hostile, even without the big gun it was wielding. 

 "This isn't happening..." Edd whispered under his breath. He threw a glance at his wristwatch. 21.55! Had he been up that long? It didn't matter, he had to get to warn the others. The robot hadn't seen him, it seemed, so as quietly as he could, Edd moved towards the front door. He pulled on his shoes and snuck out, careful not to make a sound. Then he stormed across the street towards Eddy's house, cursing his heart for making such noise as he knocked Eddy's door. 

 Luckily, Eddy hadn't gone to sleep yet. The lights were turned off, but the lava lamp threw a luminous, almost ghostly light in the room. He hoped to the sweet, dear God of Mankind that the robot wouldn't hear his knocking on Eddy's door. Suddenly, startling Edd in the process, a light came on inside. There was a shuffling of tired feet across the floor and Eddy opened the door and glared out at his slender friend. Eddy had, just as Edd, changed a whole lot these three years. Ed had gotten taller and grown a brain. Edd had gotten taller too, nearly 1m80, but remained slightly built. Eddy hadn't grown so much, he merely measured 1m70, but his stocky build had begun to show itself containing a brute muscular strength, nearly rivalling Ed's. Eddy was also unshaven as he gave Edd a scrutinizing stare. 

 "Double D, what on Earth are you up to? Do you know what time it is?" Eddy asked harshly, trying to suppress a yawn. 

 "Nevermind what time it is!" Edd wavered off the questions with a shrug. "There's a robot in my backyard." 

 It was said now. Edd waited for the other shoe to drop as Eddy seemed to be processing this. 

 "What, did one of Ed's toys get loose again?" Eddy said after a moment of silence. 

 Edd grabbed Eddy by his arm and dragged him along. "No, not a toy robot. A real, man-sized robot. C'mon!" 

 Eddy told Edd to calm down a bit and went in and put on his clothes and shoes. When Eddy was dressed, he followed Edd to his backyard. They stopped by the side of Edd's house and looked round the corner. The robot was still there. It seemed to be patrolling, or looking for something as it went to and fro in the backyard. It didn't seem to have noticed the two young men watching it though. 

 "What is that thing?" Eddy whispered, not letting his sight go from the robot. 

 "I haven't got a clue, but it's definitely not friendly." Edd whispered back. 

 "So, genius, what do we do?" Eddy snapped, realizing that something bad was brewing. Again. 

 "You get Ed, I'll get Rolf. Then, we can start thinking of a plan." Edd whispered and snuck backwards. Eddy followed. 

 Eddy saw how nimbly Edd crossed the street, not making himself visible from his backyard a nanosecond. In fact, Eddy didn't want to admit it, but Edd's psychics were beginning to scare him a bit. Shrugging of the feeling, he made way towards Ed's house. "This is going to be one long night," he thought as he slid down through Ed's open window. 

 As Eddy got down into Ed's room, Edd got right beneath Rolf's window. It was the one closest to his own house. Carefully, as if afraid to disturb the rest of the serenity of the cul-de-sac, Edd gently tapped Rolf's window. No lights went on as in Eddy's case. Rolf just came over and opened the window, slowly. Edd rose and saw that Rolf had been lying on the floor. He decided not to ask why. That could wait. He also saw the Yarrickian sword resting in its sheath in a sword case. Edd was startled to see it resting were it was. Whenever he'd seen it, it had been passing through the enemies of Humanity and other hostilities. Now it almost seemed...sleeping, awaiting the next call to battle. It was indeed a mighty blade; forged before the Imperium was founded, thus making it older than the pyramids of Giza. 

 Rolf was wearing his white singlet and blue jeans, as he usually wore when not with friends. He'd gotten taller as well, taller than Ed, and was also getting muscles. But he was still lean and still had that dialect of his, although his voice had gotten deeper. 

 "Brainy Ed-boy? Why are you tapping on Rolf's window this late into the day?" Rolf said, cocking an eyebrow. 

 "Rolf, there's a robot in my backyard, a real one. I have a feeling it came from..." Edd started, but Rolf cut him off. 

 "From the Imperium?" The older boy almost sighed at the fact. "Will this madness ever end? But, were are the other Ed-boys?" 

 "Eddy's getting Ed as we speak, but I have no idea on what good that'll do. We don't have our armour or weapons any more." 

 "Ed-boy, no need to get worried. Rolf still is the Holder of the Sword! Remember that!"

 This was no idle threat. Edd knew it full well. Rolf had managed to make his parents cut down on his chores, and let him take sword-fighting lessons. Three years had passed since he started, and Rolf had proved to be a quick learner. In a way, Edd almost felt the skill of Rolf's fighting as he spoke those words. Edd sometimes thought that Rolf had to be Yarrickian in some way. The sword was said only to be welded by the first-born son of a first-born son, and it hadn't withered or anything in Rolf's hand. 

 "Rolf, I know you have the sword, but that numbers our arsenal of weapons to one legendary blade and nothing more. And we're not letting you fight a 2 metres tall mechanoid on your own." Edd said seriously. Edd also felt as Eddy and Ed came running up behind them. Ed was still bleary eyed from being so suddenly woken. Eddy had landed on his stomach. 

 "Old gang is assembled." Eddy said flatly. "What do we do now?" 

 "We can't risk fighting it in the cul-de-sac. It could injure the others, and we'll be put through a horrible line of questions afterwards." Edd seemed to think out aloud, but not too loudly. "My suggestion is to lure it to the dump, it's not far away from my house. No innocent bystanders, no witnesses and most importantly, we'll have cover!" 

 As Edd finished that, Rolf joined them on the outside. He had for, reasons unknown, donned the greatcoat, cap and boots of the Commissar-general and slung the sword sheath over his shoulder, so it rested on his back in the leather strap. He stopped close to the Eds, and Eddy could've sworn he saw the look of the Commissar-general as he looked up at Rolf. The cap, the braid, the sword, they all had made Rolf Yarrick whom he was, and now, they had transmuted Rolf, their neighbour, into something very similar. Eddy snapped to reality. 

 "I don't suppose anyone's figured out we're going to fight this thing without gear?" he asked. Eddy in fact felt sad that he didn't wear the chunky and protective Terminator armour. He missed the lightning claws and the feeling of complete power in his hands. 

 Rolf suddenly made way towards Edd's backyard. Looking over his shoulder, the tall, tanned young man said: "Do not worry Ed-boy. We will simply have to compromise!" 

 The Eds followed him, of course. They had no choice. 

 "Compromise?" Ed said with a quizzical look. 

 "I think our Rolf means improvise, Ed." Edd replied. 

 Although Rolf was first, he wasn't first to act. That was going to be Ed. He remembered the way he'd been playing living bait as an Outlaw, and this was no exception for him. To take risks was everyday life for him. As he snuck up towards the robot by the side of Edd's house, he carefully picked up an empty can from the ground. They'd had a party not long ago here, and Edd, having gone less pedantic lately, hadn't been too careful in picking up garbage. Ed weighed the can in his hand a moment, until he silently rose and threw the can. 

 It spanged off the robot's metallic shoulder, and the thing spun round and glared at Ed with it's inhuman eyes. The robot looked over Ed, and Ed looked over the robot. Across its chest, a heavy necklace hung. Its reason, Ed had no idea. The face of the robot looked like a human skull and the long weapon in its hand seemed to be made of a combination of metal and crystal parts. Ed decided not to stay and find out what such a weapon did with a man, so he turned and ran for the dumpster. If Ed had been clocked, one would've clocked him for new World Record on the distance 100m. The robot set after, not moving as fast, but at a very quick stride. Its mechanical legs gave, surprisingly, no sound as it moved. It was far from the clumsy mechanoids of the B-movies Ed watched. And it was with a stroke of terror that Ed realized this. Even if Ed was running for a new world record, the robot was closing in on him as he reached the dump. It levelled the gun it was carrying, the blade under the 'barrel' glittering in the stark moonlight. The robot was aiming on impaling Ed on the far end of the bayonet. 

 It never got to do so. The robot lost its balance a few seconds as it received a blow from the side. Rolf had struck hard and the sacred sword had passed through the robot's side in a flurry of sparks and loose metal parts. Rolf made a new attack against the robot, joined quickly by Ed and Eddy, wielding crowbars they'd found amongst the trash. They struck at the robot, but the thing had only been caught off guard, and as it regained its senses, it started to fight back. It pulled out a wickedly curved blade seemingly out of nowhere and begun hacking at the boys. The two Eds and Rolf held their ground for a moment, but were then herded backwards under a flurry of blows. It was with fear that they realized the robot was backing them up towards a wall. At this point, the robot put down the blade, and aimed the strange gun towards the boys. The crystal of it started to glow with a greenish light and having nowhere to run to, the three young men awaited what undoubtedly had to come. They closed their eyes... 

 And opened them again as a most inhuman shriek of agony was heard. Rolf looked over the shoulder of the robot, and saw that Edd was standing there; arm stretched out and hand trailing blue smoke. The robot was now fixing Edd with its unblinking stare. A mistake of unknown bounds when up against a psyker of Edd's magnitude. As the robot turned to face this new threat, giving Ed, Eddy and Rolf to duck for cover, something brightly white and round began to form in Edd's hand. Two seconds later, a saucer shaped psibolt flew from Edd's hand and struck the robot full in the face, blinding it. Edd knew it wouldn't be blinded for long. McKenzie had told him that most bionic eyes contained a layer that filtered out powerful and irritating lights. That had too be the case of robots as well. 

 "Now what, Einstein?" Eddy asked as the others joined Edd. 

 "I have a crazy idea." Edd mumbled. "Hold the thing of for another moment!" With that, Edd ran away. 

 "Roger Wilco, Lexicanum!" Ed said and made a salute, almost striking himself with the crowbar in his right hand. 

 "Shut up, Ed." Eddy hissed as he looked back at the robot. The thing had already recovered from the flash. It made its way towards the three boys, anger glowing in its alien eyes. It drew out the blade again, and the close combat resumed. Rolf had a drill, and he stuck to it, but for Ed and Eddy it was harder. They didn't have Rolf's training, neither did they have swords. So more than once, they found themselves shuffled away from combat. 

 "I'm getting tired, Eddy." Ed said under one of these occasions. 

 "Me too," Eddy replied. "And I don't think we are doing any real damage to it." 

 Rolf, having heard what the Eds had said, growled in a strained voice: "Don't loose faith Ed-boys. Faith is our best shield against these aliens!" 

 Eddy was about to reply with a rude remark to Rolf and his sayings, undoubtedly spawned from the Commissariat, when he realized they'd been driven backwards again, this time the other way. Further into the dump. In an unguarded moment, the robot threw the three boys off itself and raised the blade in a two-handed grip over its head, to make a final cut against the Eds and Rolf. 

 The downswing never came. The robot and its arms were held in place by an unseen force. Looking up, the Eds and Rolf saw that the force was that of a lifter-magnet, attached to a crane. In the cab, Edd was sitting, and they could almost feel the force of the magnet being turned up as Edd drew a level a bit further down. The air had a ticklish smell to it, the electro-magnetic field tangible in the night-air. The robot got stuck up on the magnet with a bang. Guiding the crane to hover above the crusher machine they'd seen the first day that the Eds ever encountered the phrase Space Outlaw, Edd cut the power to the magnet and the robot fell into the crushing-machine. Eddy dived for the crusher's controls and activated the crusher before the robot could climb out. The robot had managed to get its upper body above the crusher, but that didn't help. With a sickening crunch, the legs of the robot were turned into scrap. The crusher opened its steel maw again and the robot's upper body fell in as well. Once more, the crusher closed, completing its task. With that, Eddy turned the crusher off, and Edd hit on the power to the magnet again. A small cube of metal floated out of the crusher, almost lazily. Edd directed the crane to land the cube on the ground and then turned it off. He climbed out of the cab and joined his friends. Under silence, they buried the cube of metal in a far off part of the dump. More metal garbage would soon be collected there, so no one would ever find it. However, it was no easy task getting the cube there, as the robot originally had weighed nearly three hundred kilos, and that mass had only been compressed. 

 When this was done, the four boys went back to the cul-de-sac. Fatigue was total. It had been late, and they hadn't been prepared. The robot had proved one hard nut to crack, despite it being outnumbered. 

 "Rolf needs to find his bed." Rolf silently concluded, removing the peaked cap and running his fingers through his blue hair. As he pulled out his hand, it was wet with sweat. 

 "I second that one," was all that Eddy managed. 

 Edd, however, couldn't really relax yet. "Yes, it's been a long day, and I have a feeling this isn't over, quite yet..." 

 "I hate it when you say stuff like that!" Eddy snapped and looked darkly at Edd. 

 "Why so, Eddy?" Ed asked, stumped. 

 "Because he's usually right..." Eddy sighed. 

 "Indeed, we fared well tonight, but if more of those things show up, we may not be so fortunate. We're going to have to bring McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston in on this." Edd sighed, playing with the thought of removing his hat and do what Rolf had done. He dismissed the thought immediately. 

 "One slight problem there, sock-head," Eddy snapped. He hadn't lost his attitude. "We don't have any idea where they are!" 

 "Maybe not," Edd simply replied. "There might be one way to contact them. Excuse me, I have a lot of 'thinking' to do." With that Edd veered off from the group and aimed for home. He left his friends in a puzzled mood. Rolf, who wanted to get home and get to bed and out of the uniform, left Ed and Eddy. 

 "What was he talking about, Eddy?" Ed asked. He might have grown a brain, but he was no man on solving mysteries. 

 "Search me," was Eddy's replied. With that, the two steered home too, hoping Edd's prophecies would prove wrong for just once. 

 Edd was once again in his room. The blue-prints still lay on his desk, but they were since long forgotten. Instead, Edd had pulled out a strip of paper from somewhere. The strip held an address: 

                      **Edward R. McKenzie **

**               45 Howard Street**

 It was followed by the postal code and the city he lived in. It was the city that made Peach Creek a suburb. Edd sat on his bed, his legs folded and eyes closed. He calmed down, shutting out the adrenaline kick from the recent battle, forcing his heartbeat down. He cleared his mind from any disturbances: home-work, tests, wars and more. 

 'Hope this works.' Edd thought and begun murmuring a litany under his breath. It was a prayer McKenzie had taught him. It helped in focusing the mind when searching for other psykers, or making a 'scan' as McKenzie had put it. As the murmured prayer became a something that he didn't need to focus on anymore, Edd let go of his mind and felt his mind leave his body. It flew out of his house, from the cul-de-sac and followed the road to the high-way to the city. It passed through the industrial zones, the market zones and finally came to the habitual zones of the city. It found a special street, a special house. His mind flexed and took in all nearby human psyches. Most of them were faint like candlelights, other bright like beacons. 

 'Latent psykers...' Edd gave an involuntary, contemptuous thought. They had no idea what risks they took if deamons would find a way to Earth; deamons lived of the souls of unprotected humans, and they favoured psykers! A trained psyker could repel them, but an untrained one... 

 Amongst the few bright ones, Edd found one soul-flare that shone brightly, but with a moderate light. It was tempered, so to say. He shot away towards that soul. 

 In his apartment, Master Lexicanum Edward McKenzie was sitting in a similar position to Edd's. But he wasn't trying to scan. He was merely meditating. Flexing his mind to keep it at peak efficiency. He did it every evening. Charleston and McGranth went before him to the local bar, and after a few minutes, McKenzie followed, finished with his mind flexing. Charleston and McGranth lived in their own apartments, but in the same house. McKenzie knew how Terrans would react if they had all lived together. They would all have gotten arrested by the local Arbites. Policemen, McKenzie reminded himself that their name was. 

 McKenzie was just to stop his meditating, when he felt something tugging at him. He quickly recognized the pattern of a scan and realized someone was trying to communicate with him. The scanner wanted to tell him something; that was clear. Back in the Imperium, McKenzie often held contact with the most powerful psykers, and knew their patterns from heart, but this pattern was new. McKenzie, for once, didn't know who was trying to communicate with him. 

 He let the stranger in, intrigued, and almost had a shock when he felt that the psi-pattern of the other psyker was similar to his, he realized that it had to be the cul-de-sac boy called Double D. He let the youngster completely in on his mind, and the relief that reached him actually made him worried. McKenzie felt a rush in his mind as Edd's recent memories reach him psychically. McKenzie saw what Edd had seen; it rolled out before him as a sort of movie. But this was highly real. McKenzie didn't just see pictures and heard sounds; he felt Edd's feeling and heard his thoughts as well. 

 He saw how Edd discovered the robot, his dash to Eddy and the sudden jolt of adrenaline that came then. He saw the gathering of the foursome, and almost felled a tear at seeing the Yarrickian Sword again. It was a relic for all of the Imperium. It symbolised freedom, just as the Emperor had. McKenzie also felt the next jolt of adrenaline when Edd gave the robot the feel of the power of psychics. McKenzie also saw the quiet burial of the robot. With the 'movie' finished, Edd left McKenzie's mind. This made McKenzie jerk back to reality. The slender Marine remained sitting for a while, thinking of what he'd seen. He remembered Armageddon, twelve years before the fall. Sebastian and Charleston had, as McGranth put it, frekked up, and gone wandering in the huge, seemingly impenetrable pyramid in the Equatorial Jungle. They had encountered robots in there. An anti-matter bomb had taken out both the whole pyramid and the nearby Khornate monolith. McKenzie had though returned, and in the few ruins that remained, he'd found a picture of the robots that had resided in the pyramid. Charleston and Sebastian had given their explanations of them, so had Herman von Strab, before he was executed. They had all given similar explanations and of what McKenzie could tell, these were the same robots. 

 "So, there are more of them?" McKenzie thought darkly to himself. The droid from Edd's backyard hadn't been exactly the same, but it was clear they had been based on the same technology. "Heck," McKenzie said quietly. "Even robots evolve, if a few thousand years pass by." 

 McKenzie got up and picked up keys to his BMW motorbike, put on his leather jacket and grabbed his helmet. He ran down the stairs and into the garage shared by most people in the house. McGranth's and Charleston's bikes were gone, but McKenzie's still stood there. To his disgust, he found some gutter-kids trying to steal it. Instead of driving them off, he focused on the ignition key and made a psi one by the bike and ran it into the ignition set, turned it and the bike flared into life. The kids jumped away from it by surprise. 

 "Wot da F is goin' on?" McKenzie heard one of them shout. McKenzie smiled to himself as he unlocked the chain keeping the bike were it was. Moving it by sheer force of will, McKenzie revved the engine for measure. This scared the kids even more. They ran away. McKenzie put on his helmet and strode up to his bike and put in the first gear and drove off into the night. He put in the second gear, the third as he sped the bike faster and faster towards the bar his friends had gone to. They wanted to try something new, so went to one in the far end of the city. The plush part, so to say, in big difference to the 'slums' in which they resided. McKenzie just hoped no police officers would stop him. If they tried, they'd end up with erased memories of the last few minutes. McKenzie threw a glance down at the speed-meter as he drove down a straight. 90 kph. 

 The traffic light before him changed from red to green at McKenzie's command and he took a curve at alarming speed. A move like that would not have been possible in daylight. It still took McKenzie twenty minutes to reach the bar where Charleston and McGranth was. 

 He parked the bike outside, locking it psychically instead of manually and rushed into the bar, throwing off his helmet. 

 "Thought you'd never come, Edward." was McGranth's comment when McKenzie stormed into the bar. McGranth threw a second glance at his friend and saw something wasn't right. 

 "Hey, Edd, what's wrong?" McGranth said and looked puzzled. Charleston looked up from his beer too. McKenzie calmed down and was about to tell the other two about what had happened in the cul-de-sac and what they were to await, when three green beams of light stabbed through the window of the bar and destroyed the mirror behind the bar-keeper. The barkeeper and the few guests except the Marine commanders threw themselves down unto the floor. The Marines flung round and watched as three robots of humanoid size and shape entered through the destroyed window. 

 "What are those?" McGranth asked and raised his fists. Right now he wanted his storm bolter and power axe. 

 "What I was about to tell you about!" McKenzie shouted back. The screams from the people in the bar were getting to him. The people on the outside, well, the few ones, were also screaming in terror of the droids. "The cul-de-sac kids killed one barely an hour ago! I went here to tell you there could be more!" McKenzie raised his fists and made a psychic barrier around them. "Frekk, I hate to be right!" 

 "Still haven't answered my question, Master Lexicanum!" McGranth shouted. The robots were close now. 

 "Necrons!" Charleston shouted and dove towards one. McGranth just gave a shrug and attack the one closest to him, and so did Mckenzie with his. McGranth and Charleston were both left with fighting the droids with their bare fists, McKenzie used his psyker powers to deal some extra damage with each punch. Still though, both Charleston and McGranth were stronger than the lanky Lexicanum. McGranth attacked his droid with legs spread, in a kick-boxing style stance. His punches were always followed by a powerful kick. Although the robot in front of him did no attempts to duck the punches thrown at it, Eddie's kicks made it reel backwards. One such powerful kick crushed the giant necklace's gemstone. Following the confused seconds for the droid, McGranth struck it hard on its jaw with his palm, sending the robot flying through the air and landing outside. McGranth was pleased to see smoke billowing from its broken form. He was not so pleased to see the tiny insecticides crawling over the broken necklace and the deformed jaw of the Necron, leaving repaired injuries. In a matter of minutes, the robot was up on its feet again, striding towards the Death Angel's Commander. 

 Charleston was faring ill as well. His opponent wasn't wielding the hefty guns as the other two robots. It was carrying a tall glaive, able to keep the tall Marine at a distance. At the end of the glaive, there were both an emitter for the ray gun and a curved blade, utterly alien in design. Charleston, being a simple man, grabbed the staff like weapon and began tugging it. The robot held firm. They both started pulling the glaive, but in the end Charleston's immense strength prevailed over artificial muscles. He pulled the glaive out of the Necron's hands and threw it away, so it stuck with the blade into a nearby wall. Charleston then attacked the robot with pure fury, head butting the thing so seriously he caused a hole in the forehead of the robot. The Necron, temporarily stunned, couldn't do anything to prevent the Marine from ramming his massive fists into the hole and parting the robot's head in two. Charleston's hands were soaked in oil as he let go and saw the Necron fall to the ground. A pleased smile crossed his lips as the thing fizzled and threw electrical sparks around it, but it soon vanished as he saw the same small insecticide robots that his commander had seen, came creeping out of the bowels of the Necron and started to repair it. The split face was rebuilt and the Necron stood up soundlessly. The only thing Charleston had gained from his head butt had been one heck of a bump in his forehead and a coming headache... 

 McKenzie was having a hard time too, despite his powers. He'd downed the robot once, but then tiny robot insects had repaired it. He saw no end to the fight, until one of his psychic-augmented punches revealed a piece of the Necron's "brain" as it struck against the thing's head. Inside, McKenzie saw what would've been described as a computer chip, had it not been twice the size of a normal such, and made out of something completely else than silicon. The material glowed in the light that McKenzie's psychics generated and looked completely smooth on the surface. No leads or connection links ran to it. It was suspended in some sort of magnetic field. McKenzie came to the realisation it had to be a super conducting material and made a powerful back swing with his right arm and crushed the skull of the Necron into tiny pieces. He felt a cold tingling in his hand and arm as he smashed the controller chip of the robot. The thing fell limply to the ground, like a doll with its strings cut. No insects ran out of its body to repair it either. McKenzie smiled. He'd found a way to destroy the Necrons! 

 "Ed, Eddie, destroy the controller chip in their heads, and the Necrons seize to work!" he shouted over the battling sounds in the bar. He didn't bother to wait for a response. Charleston and McGranth had given up that habit, to respond. They only did as McKenzie told them when he'd found a solution. McKenzie started to drag the dead Necron out to the back of the bar. Out in the alleys, he picked it apart, and put different pieces in many different trashcans. The only thing he saved was the wrecked controller chip. Without that, the Necron would never work again. 

 On the inside, Charleston and McGranth were both trying to destroy the heads of the mechanoids. Charleston had tried to squash the skull of his with his bare hands, while McGranth aimed high kicks against the head, hoping to wreck something on the inside. It wasn't proving successful. After one incredibly powerful kick, McGranth found his droid on the ground again. He threw a glance at Charleston and saw that he two had grounded his Necron. Charleston looked at McGranth. Making a silent decision between each other, they grabbed the legs of their opponents and swung them round with great force. At the exact time, having timing only centuries of fighting together could achieve, the two Marines let go off the legs of their opponents and saw the two Necrons fly heads first straight towards each other. The two heads collided with a force that should've knocked a hole in a German WW2 "Tiger"-tank's front armour. Now, the two mechanoid heads didn't have the durability of 15 centimetres of armoured plating and both skulls were more or less disintegrated into tiny fragments. The bodies of the droids landed on the floor of the bar with a thud. Charleston and McGranth didn't rest for that. They grabbed a Necron each and dragged it out to the back where McKenzie was waiting. The psyker picked them too into tiny pieces and saved the controller chips, or what was left of them. With that, the threesome returned to the bar. 

 The bartender was covering behind the counter, but looked up at the three Marines as they came back in. 

 "What in the name of God was that?" he asked wide-eyed. "And what are you?" This second remark was aimed towards all three Marines. 

 "Nothing of importance, right Edd?" McGranth said with a nudge. 

 "Right." McKenzie's simple answer came, as he let fly a psychic wave, which erased the memories of all the recent happenings in the minds of all the normal humans that had seen the happening. This was a great move, McKenzie knew, and it could in fact attract deamons, if he wasn't careful. 

 The bartender got a blank look on his face. McKenzie flexed his mind some more and planted "better" memories into the mind of the man. While McKenzie was doing this, Charleston and McGranth were both paying up. The bartender accepted the money and paid no attention it seemed to the demolished window. The three Marines then left, sat astride on their bikes and rode home. They both knew what they were going to have to do tomorrow. It seemed they only had gotten a few years of peace, before it was time for them to suit up again. It would prove one long summer. 

 They had no idea how right they would prove... 

The morning after the battle at the garbage dump, the Eds met up with Rolf in Eddy's room. They discussed what to do next. Rolf had meditated a little before he went to sleep, trying to recall some of the worst of Rolf Yarrick's memories. He even explained why. His body had subconsciously suppressed them, and to get them back, he needed to meditate. Edd wondered if Rolf was a probable psyker. At this, Rolf gave a sneer. 

 "Why do you ask such blasphemies, Ed-boy?" Rolf asked. Eddy rolled his eyes and sighed. Rolf's personality had become even less understandable since the commissar came into him. If Eddy hadn't known better, he would say Rolf now had a shrine or something in his house where he prayed every morning and evening in praise to the Emperor. 

 "Because I've sensed another psyker mind in the cul-de-sac lately. And it's becoming stronger for every day. It wasn't there a year ago..." Edd's voice trailed off. 

 "To get back on subject:" Eddy intervened, "There's no doubt there'll be more of these... things out there... in space." 

 "Yes," Edd answered, "and it goes without saying that these robots cannot be allowed to come to Earth." 

 "The cost would be far to high," Rolf finished off. 

 "Then there's only one choice, and that's the good old way of taking the fight to them." Edd said with a half-hearted smile. "We'll have to go back to the Imperium, or whatever's left of it..." 

 "But how do we do that Double D?" Ed asked, taking his eyes from the big poster of the very casually dressed girl in Eddy's room. "We don't have anything to make a travel hole in the Warp with." 

 "That is taken care of Ed," Edd replied simply. "Last night, I managed to contact McKenzie." 

 This comment gave Edd confused looks from his two life-long friends. Ed was sitting with a gaping mouth, looking like a fish, and Eddy just stared. Rolf, on the other hand, simply nodded as if he had expected to hear this. There wasn't much nowadays that startled Rolf. Yet again, that could be blamed on his split soul. As a matter of fact, he'd managed to become school president the year before he left for High School. And in High School, it had taken him two weeks to get a grand majority in the next School President election. He was on his second year, and would probably hold it his entire High School time. Eddy put it down to charisma, that he in some odd way knew, all commissars possessed. All great leaders for that part. He'd fared to understand so as they'd read history. Everyone of the great leaders had seemed to possess charisma in spades: Napoleon, Churchill, Montgomery, Eisenhower, Hitler, Stalin, Lenin... The list could be made endlessly long. Personally, Eddy knew he possessed himself some vague resemblance to charisma, but not the true thing. It was the one thing he didn't want to have in spades, although, it would help up his cons somewhat gravely in success. 

 Eddy laughed dryly to himself. But he was torn from thoughts by Edd's voice. How long had he been talking? 

 "The details aren't important, but McKenzie and his two friends are aware of what happened last night." Edd said and stood up. This was no good sign concerning Edd. It meant a speech or the like, but Eddy was to be wrong. "I can only assume they're making their way here as soon as possible." 

 "That still doesn't solve our main problem: How to fight them?" Eddy said with and open-handed gesture. "How does four teenagers and three 'retired' Space Marines battle who knows how many robot soldiers, when all the gear we have is theirs and the Legendary Yarrickian Sword." 

 Eddy paused before going on. "Don't get me wrong, I've no doubt in that McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston are still living fighting machines, and I know the potency of that sword; I've seen it kill a Deamon Lord! But, it still leaves three of us with our bare hands and Double D's psychic powers. And that is not with mentioning the fact that there are probably hundreds of thousands of the robots." 

 Eddy fell backwards in his bed and gave a small sigh. "I hate to say this, but I'm not sure the seven of us can pull this off, even with the sword, and as it only scared the living daylights out of deamons..." 

 "I must agree and disagree with that at the same time Eddy," Edd said with a thoughtful look upon his face. "We have done most of our fighting with comrades at our sides. Those comrades are since long gone, however they still do exist, in a matter of speaking." 

 Ed made the fish-face again, Eddy stared again and even Rolf gave a look of confusedness now. No one seemed to understand what Edd was talking about. The wiry young man gave a sigh. 

 "Those people we've fought alongside, or at least alternate versions of them still exist, right before your eyes, here in the cul-de-sac." 

 Still the confused looks. But the looks slowly changed into a range of different feelings. But they all led to a final one: disbelief. 

 "Are you nuts?" Eddy simply blurted out. 

 "I understand your meaning, brainy Ed-boy," Rolf said giving a sorrowful look, "but our dear friends in the cul-de-sac have no combat training, neither do they have our experience." 

 "On that with dear, I couldn't differ more..." Eddy muttered sourly, remembering how Kevin still picked on them. If he only knew... 

 "Neither did we at first, but we managed." Edd said, completely ignoring Eddy's comment. 

 "But," Eddy shot in, "We had armour, and psi crystals to give us experience directly, get me? And Rolf here had a living legend's experience to back up on." 

 "I know we have none of out gear now, but McKenzie might know where to get some stuff. And, speaking frankly, I believe that we right now need all the help we can get." 

 "This might sound stupid," Ed of all people shot in, "but the other kids don't know a fig about this, so what makes you think they'll believe it? I know my sister, she only believes what she can see with her two eyes and touch with her fingers." Ed had been about to add nail-clawed fingers instead, but decided not too. 

 "Then we'll have to give them rock solid proof, then." Edd said with a simple gesture. 

 "All right," Eddy said with scepticism in his voice, "if we somehow manage to convince them, and if they agree to go with us, then what?" 

 Then we wait for McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston and hope..." Edd said and shrugged. He wasn't going to tell them he had no idea what to do next, but it had to wait. 

 "Okay, I guess we don't have much of a choice, do we?" Eddy sighed and sat up again. 

 "Uh, Eddy..." Edd said and hesitated a second. "It's not quite as simple as that..." 

 "Whaddya mean?" Eddy asked and gave Edd a stern look. 

 "Well, when I say we need all the help we can get, I really do mean ALL the help we can get..." Edd let his voice trail of and waited for the next cog to fall into place in the machinery. "So, unfortunately, we'll have to..." 

 Eddy's facial expression said what his pained soul wanted to say for ten long seconds. Eddy was in no way slow-witted, in fact the contrary. He was in fact extremely quick witted, when it got to saving his own skin and soul. 

 "Don't say it..." Eddy hissed. 

 "Afraid I have to, Eddy," Edd said with an overcome look, "I'm afraid we'll have to ask Kevin as well as the Kankers for help." 

 "Can't believe you said that..." Eddy muttered. 

 "But weren't the versions of Kevin and the Kankers in the Imperium bad guys?" Ed asked. 

 "Bad guy is a fuzzy word combination," Edd said and looked down unto the floor for while before looking up. "But they started out on the 'good' side." 

 "Besides, our Kevin and our Kankers aren't influenced by Chaos or infested by the Hive Mind." Edd continued. 

 "That's a matter of opinion..." Eddy muttered sourly, but Edd had heard him. 

 "Eddy, I know how you feel about Kevin," Edd said kindly, "And none of us really is keen on the Kankers, but you must admit, that they all are fairly tough." 

 Eddy's reply was a grumble. 

 "I do not see as we have any choice," Rolf put in. "My only concern is how we'll convince them that all this is true..." 

 "That, Rolf, will certainly not be easy." Edd sighed. "We can show them the sword, of course, and tell them about the robot we fought in the garbage dump yesterday. Anyway, I still think we'll have to wait for McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston to arrive. Even with them at our side, it might still not be enough to convince our neighbours." 

 "This is going to be one long day... " Eddy sighed and fell backwards unto his bed again. "So, how do we convince them, then?" 

 "My thought is that we gather them all in one place and tell them there and then, in that way, we only need to tell the story once." Edd replied. 

 "That, Ed-boy, would be difficult, concerning the fact that we all are rarely in the same place at the same time." Rolf said and looked worried. 

 "Yes, we'll have to gather them in some way, perhaps send them all some kind of invitation." 

 Ed, who'd been sitting quiet for a good while now, made a sign that he wanted to say something: "I think I know how to do it." 

 Rolf, Edd and Eddy gathered beside Ed and they all huddled together, like a football team discussing what to do next. Ed's little explanation took a few minutes. But when they were done, they split up from the huddled position.  

 "Good idea, Ed." Edd complimented his friend. "Odd I didn't come to think of that?" 

 "Easy solutions often escape even the biggest geniuses." Rolf said simply as he opened the door to Eddy's room. 

 "Right." Eddy said with a forced happy tone in his voice. "See you tonight. And Ed, this better work..." 

 Before long, a number of notes were delivered to all the cul-de-sac kids' houses, even the Kanker's trailer. The notes weren't handwritten, they were printed from a computer, with a strange sigil at the bottom: a twin-headed eagle with its wings spread. Most kids were puzzled by the sigil, except Jonny, who thought it looked nice and Plank wanted him to save it. 

 The message on the notes was short: "Important Meeting" it read. "Come to the campsite in the woods tonight. Way to it marked with torches." To make sure everybody showed up, Edd had added: "Free S'mores" to Eddy's frustration. 

 Edd's extra add-on paid off. All kids arrived that night at the former campsite of the Urban Rangers. Even the Kankers showed up. The Eds had arranged a kind of set for it all. Rolf had helped of course. He wanted the camp to be restored to its starting state easily. As the camp was far into the forest, all the kids had brought sleeping bags. They knew there was no going home in the middle of the night. They all sat down on various places before the set, using jackets and cushions not to get cold as they sat on the ground. The Eds and Rolf could feel the cul-de-sac kids curious eyes watching them from the darkness. There was a long pause before something happened. Kevin happened. 

 "Well, what are you waiting for?" he said in an irritated voice. "Get on with it!" 

 Being the good friend he was, Eddy shoved Edd forward a bit. Edd felt the blush heading for his face. It started at his bellybutton and headed north. 

 "Oh my..." he whimpered silently before starting to talk in a clear voice. "Well, thank you all for heeding our call and coming." 

 "I said get on with it." Kevin sourly shot in. Rolf shot his friend a mighty dark look, but Kevin didn't notice. Edd felt the blush was at his chest now. 

 "Right, right," Edd said as he tried to calm down and stop the blush. "Well, you're all here because we must ask for your help." 

 As Edd had said this, he managed to calm down, find his nerve and stop the onrushing blush. His explanation became a speech. He explained everything: From the discovery of the probe and their first meeting with the Imperium of Man more than three years ago. Their first battle and kills on the ice planet Volrath, the massive assault against the Hive world Armageddon. Their encounters with Kevlinn and later, even the Deamon Kharn. He told them of the many dangers they'd encountered; from treacherous Eldar to zombie robots. Some of his description might have been a little to evocative, cause he thought he heard Jimmy whimper in the crowd, as he described his own show-down with the mighty A'mon C'hak'ai, and how Rolf killed the Deamon Lord Kharn. 

 Two and a half hour later, Edd came to the tail end of his speech: "When we had defeated Kharn, we returned home. That was about two years ago." 

 Edd made a little pause to let it all sink in, before he began describing the true nature of their new problems: "It's been a few years, yes, and we all thought our adventures had come to an end. Until last night, that is. Somehow, some kind of killer robot managed to make its way here, to our own cul-de-sac. There can be only one solution to how it came here. The warp-signature of the probe must still be able to be picked up, and that is why we assume it came from what once was the Imperium of Man. There are most certainly more of these murderous machines. We have encountered deamons, yes, and we once allowed two deamon lords to tread Mother Earth's ground, but we can never allow any alien abhorrence to do that again. So this time, we have no other choice than to go to the Imperium again, and stop the problem in its cradle." 

 "Alas, we no longer have our weapons and equipment that we had then, and even though we still have a sword of aeons old, we are not at our best right now." Edd continued. "So that is why we have decided that our only option is to come to you for help." 

 The following silence was a tense moment. As a certain Mr. Terry Pratchett has said once "silence is not the lack of sound, it's a sort of sound itself" and that described very well the kind of sound that met Edd for two whole minutes. 

 "You expect us to believe that?" Lee Kanker said with obvious distrust in her voice. 

 "Well, we do have some proof to offer for you." Edd replied scratching his head. Without shooting anybody a glance or anything, Rolf silently moved out of sight, backstage. No one paid heed to the blue haired foreigner either. 

 "You did hear the commotion at the garbage dump last night, didn't you? At least some of you did, I hope?" Edd asked, looking concerned for the first time this night. He'd looked nervous, yes, but not concerned." 

 "Yeah, so?" came Marie Kanker's snapping answer. 

 "That was the four of us, attempting to stop the robot." Edd answered. "We managed to destroy it, but sadly, I doubt that it was the only one..." 

 "Then where's the robot now?" Sarah asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

 "Well, we buried it, to keep anyone else from finding the remains. Uninvited people, that is..." 

 "So, we can't see it?" May Kanker said, drawing a simple conclusion in her mind. 

 "I'm afraid that would prove to be a bit difficult..." Edd replied with a sheepish smile. 

 "So, you can't actually prove to us that it exists, dorks!" Kevin snapped, getting impatient with this highly probable scam. 

 "We don't need to show you the robot, as we have other evidence." Edd replied calmly. "Rolf!" 

 On cue, Rolf came back on stage. This time however, he was wearing the commissar's uniform over his ordinary clothing. The peaked cap was put squarely on his head and the leather strap that held the sword sheath on his back was slung easily over his right shoulder. In his right hand, he held the silver gleaming Yarrickian Sword, its golden parrying bar glittering in the gloomy light from the torches nearby. Although it wasn't in its true owner's hand, it still had an aura of power around it. The black jackboots on Rolf's feet were polished immaculately, they too shining in the light from the warm torches. Even the all too often muddy greatcoat was spotless. 

 "Nice outfit." Nazz giggled with a smile. She'd become quite a beautiful young woman in the three years that had passed, she and Kevin and Rolf all coming to the age of 17 soon. 

 "This is no mere outfit," Rolf replied steely, "this is the uniform of a Commissar-General, and this sword is many thousands of years old." 

 "Oh, come on Rolf," Kevin groaned. "We all know that you've been taking sword-fighting lessons." 

 "Yes, Kevin, I have been training, preparing myself in case the need should arise for us to fight again, and sadly, now it has." 

 "I don't know about this..." Johnny said hesitating. He stood up, and made to leave. He didn't care if it was late, he wanted home. 

 "Wait, please, we still have three pieces of evidence to show you, but they haven't arrived yet..." Edd fell silent for a moment, and looked like he just seemed to have come to a realization. It was only on his face for a few seconds, before it was gone and he talked again. "Ah, and here they are now!" 

 A few seconds later, the sound of three big motorcycles could be heard. The rumbling closed in and the three big bikes came into the campsite. Upon each bike sat a man. They all gave away an aura of power. The shortest one, riding a Harley Davidson, was around 1m80. The tallest one measured around 2m50. 

 The bikes stopped ten metres from the cul-de-sac kids, and the riders stepped of their steeds. Removing their helmets, they showed off faces that were alarmingly alike the Eds. The one looking like Ed had the big exception of no zits and no freckles. The one that looked like Edd didn't wear the mandatory cap and had an orange tattoo at his left temple. Eddy's copy had a thin, black moustache on his upper lip and the remnants of an old scar over his left eye. McKenzie had, being the apt psyker he was, used Edd's psychic signature to lead himself and his friends to the campsite. 

 The kids looked at the three tall men with warying faces, their looks going from fear, through distrust to awe. 

 Edd broke the silence: "May I present, our alternate selves from the Imperium of Mankind: Lieutenant Commander Ed Charleston, Master Lexicanum Edward McKenzie and Grand Commander Eddie McGranth!" 

 "Ah, no way..." Kevin silently said to himself. He was genuinely impressed. 

 "Double D," McKenzie said, looking the kids over. "Who are all of them, and what are they doing here?" McKenzie soon recognized the faces of the kids, and realized whom they represented from their worlds. He got a stern look on his face as he called the Eds to him. 

 "May I have a word with you? Just for a minute?" 

 The Marine commanders, the three young Eds and Rolf all went out of earshot from the others. 

 "What is this?" McKenzie asked flatly as the seven gathered away from the others. 

 "We're sorry for this, but let's face it; we need all the help we can get!" Eddy said with a shrug of his shoulders. 

 "But what can they possibly do?" McGranth asked concerned. "They don't have any battle experience. And what the frekk is HE doing here!?" 

 "I assume you mean Kevin." Edd replied simply. "I know how you must feel, but he's not Kevlinn, no more than I'm McKenzie. This is a completely different person. Besides, imagine how we must've felt when we had to fight against people we counted as neighbours and friends, not sworn enemies." 

 "Believe me, I don't like it anymore than you do, but I suppose it had to be better to have him with us, than against us, right?" Eddy said and looked up at the others. 

 "And we thought that you guys could find some armour for them, just like you did for us, right?" Ed finished off. 

 McKenzie rubbed his brow, as if he had a headache. He was quiet for a while, until he spoke. "We don't even have the bleakest ray of hope that we can in fact get back to the Imperium, and let alone find armour at all. As for their battle-experience, they'll have to learn it the hard way. The data-file I had on how to create psi-crystals is gone. Must've lost it somewhere..." 

 Rolf put a hand on McKenzie's lean shoulder. "I know that this will not be easy, but we believe that this is our best chance, if not the only." 

 McKenzie nodded slowly. He seemed to get an idea. 

 "You go tell the others, that those who wish to join our crusade should tell us. I don't want anyone drawn into this who doesn't want to be coming along. Weak minded people, or non-willing, could get us attacked by deamons, or betray us. Maybe even worse." McKenzie made a pause. "I think I have an idea on how to be able to get back to the Imperium..." 

 With that, he walked off towards his bike. There, he picked out a 2m10 tall, and several centimetres thick package. How it had been able to fit onto the bike, no one asked or knew. McKenzie began picking out several other items from a box on his bike, but the Eds never got to see what it was. Charleston and McGranth herded them back to the stage, where they made their announcement. 

 After that, all the kids crept down into their sleeping rolls and bags, except Charleston and McGranth, who kept watch over the fire. McKenzie had disappeared into the woods nearby. 

 Eddy, being one of the last to fall asleep, lay contemplating what had happened. It was much, he concluded. 

 "I knew it was going to be one long day..." he yawned before he went to sleep. 

When Edd awoke the next morning, around 9 am, he saw that Charleston and McGranth had been back home apparently and gotten the Marines' gear. He'd known so when he saw McGranth moving round in his bulky Terminator armour, his Storm Bolter dangling from a leather strap around his shoulder and his massive power axe hanging from his waist in a magnetic chain. Charleston had been sitting by the burnt-out fire and cleaned his plasma pistol. Edd had seen that he'd broken off specks of dust, or whatever it was, from the pistol's wenting holes. 

 Edd hadn't found McKenzie until about lunch, and then he'd taken with him a basket full of sandwiches. The Master Lexicanum had been sitting on a dirt mound in a meadow further into the forest, clad in his intricately decorated suit of power armour. He was holding a 2m10 tall stick in his hands. The stick was obviously made from fine mahogany tree and McKenzie was carving sigils and holes into it with a very sharp knife. All the while, he was muttering something in a tongue Edd couldn't begin to understand, but, being the fan he was of books, he thought it sounded a bit like Tolkien's eldar language; Quenya.  

 "Antataura sairon sina lelyarta Menel, teplë ecco et elen so calan." was what Edd heard McKenzie mutter before the tall Marine looked up at him, sensing his proximity. Edd now saw the other things that McKenzie had brought. By his side lay some other carving tools and several gemstones of varying size. Some were small, able to fit into a hand. The largest one Edd believed he couldn't even close his hands entirely around. It was carved in a beautiful brilliant carving. The blue colour of it gave it away for being a sapphire. Along with the gems and tools, was a pot of what looked like silver paint, though it glistened in a way silver never would be able to glisten. McKenzie noticed the young man's interest for his tools and smiled. 

 "They're gifts from the Eldar to me, when they worked with us together against the Evil One." the tall and slender Marine said simply. "The gems are from Eldar worlds, the tools of Wraithbone and the paint is liquid ithilmar, star silver." 

 Edd now noticed the thin, silver lines on the staff. He saw how they were written into a language he couldn't possibly read. Eldar, he concluded, as the words McKenzie had been speaking. Edd stood there for a long while. McKenzie grabbed a new tool and started to carve on a new place, a big, intricate pattern, taking up were he left on the beautiful Eldar song/chant. Edd would never know if the other psyker raised his voice deliberately so that Edd could hear the beautiful words, but he would remember the song till his dying day. It was beautiful, but yet, the seriousness of their duty hung over it. This thought snapped him back to reality as McKenzie picked up the brush and started to paint out yet another unintelligible sentence. 

 "Care for some lunch, McKenzie?" Edd asked and raised his arm to show McKenzie the basket. 

 "Ah, salvation!" McKenzie said and put down the brush as he took the basket from Edd. "I've been working on this thing since before dawn, and I kind of slipped breakfast." McKenzie started sorting through it, his face halfway into the basket. 

 This made Edd smirk. For a powerful Master Lexicanum, McKenzie's behaviour could be unbelievable at times. Here he was, digging through a basket of food, with all the finesse and manners of a six-year-old. Edd also noticed the gemstones didn't lie in any special order. They were just strewn about. Edd didn't want to think what McKenzie's workshop had looked like. Sadly though, the Master Lexicanum heard his thoughts. He was obviously not so oblivious to the world as he seemed. 

 "You don't like messes, do you?" McKenzie asked without looking up. 

 "I'm only asking, what did your workshop on your home world look like?" Edd asked cautiously. 

 "A mess." 

 "Then, if I may ask, how were you able to find anything there then?" 

 McKenzie looked up at final. He chewed a while on the sandwich he was working on and swallowed. "Fringe benefit from being a psyker. I just think of what I need, and it comes to my hand." To state an example, he reached out his hand and aimed it at a small stick lying about 15 metres away from him. A few seconds later, it was in his hand. McKenzie tossed the stick away. 

 "I don't believe you at times. You, a trained soldier, and you can't even keep your workshop clean!" Edd sighed. 

 "Hah! You think you can imagine that? You should see my current apartment!" McKenzie said and grinned. His Terran counterpart was obviously a pedantic fellow. 

 "Nonsense!" Edd said as he walked off, rolling his eyes. It was obvious he and his Imperial counter didn't have more in common than looks. 

 "A little nonsense, now and then/relished by the wisest men!" McKenzie mockingly said in a singsong voice to Edd as the boy walked off. 

 "Wait a second, Edd!" McKenzie suddenly called, his voice having a stern note to it. Edd turned and looked at the tall man. McKenzie had put down his tools and was looking straight at Edd, all of his mind focused on the boy before him. 

 "I want to talk to you about a few things. Come over here." McKenzie said and gestured towards a stump beside him. Edd walked over to him and sat down on the offered seat. He could swear it hadn't been there a moment ago. 

 "You of course want to see Terra become a part of the Imperium, right?" McKenzie asked. He didn't leave Edd with his gaze for a second. 

 "What do you mean?" Edd asked, feeling spooked by the look he was given. "Isn't Earth a free standing world in space? You're the aliens..." 

 "DON'T use that word!" McKenzie exploded. "No, we're not 'aliens', we're also humans. It's a long story, but let's just say that Terra, I mean Earth, once was part of the Imperium. In fact, if you ever make contact with the Human Galactic Empire, to give its correct name, you will have to rewrite all of your recorded history, more or less." 

 "What do you mean?" Edd asked. The air in the meadow felt suddenly cold. 

 "I mean that Terra was seeded with human life." McKenzie let this sink in, and it apparently scared the young man before him. "I know, sounds unbelievable, but it's true. Terra was an experiment to see if Humanity would get anywhere, without influence from other human worlds, and from the Emperor. But, seeing how your history has developed, I'm afraid it'll be many hundreds, maybe thousands of years before we will see that happen..." 

 "You mean..." Edd began, but McKenzie finished the sentence for him. 

 "Yes, I mean that I've read your history quite thoroughly. I managed to become a librarian in the city where I live, and, well, I've studied your history intently the last two years. All the parts that were written in the Codex: Terra, I already knew the truth about, but it was good to see the Terran view on it all. And the things that terrify me so, is how Terran humans have killed and murdered each other over the millennia. Of course, we had criminals and rebellions and revolutions in the Imperium, but nothing of the magnitude of your Second World War, as you call it! 60 million human lives is a great waste, and you couldn't even catch the culprit! Okay, so you had the Nuremberg trials, but you didn't nail the master-mind, did ya? I tell you, we never suffered from systematic genocide in the Imperium. Terran humanity has degraded, and it's sad..." 

 Edd looked shocked at the Master Lexicanum. The chilly feel in the air was gone and replaced with the warm summer's breeze that blew before. The Imperial servant had a point, though. War was a horrible thing, Edd had always thought so. He'd thought his times in power armour as necessary to retain the peace amongst the stars. To fight, to kill other beings; he hadn't liked it. Was he seeing that replicated in his Imperial counterpart? Edward McKenzie, Master Lexicanum of the Death Angels. A psyker of almost incomprehensible power. Did he too despise the killing so, even if it was the abhorrent deamons, the cruel Dark Eldar or the bestial Hive Fleet minions? Edd wasn't sure. He at least was sure that McKenzie hated unnecessary violence and killing, especially between humans, and who didn't? Yes, Terran humans had degraded, that couldn't be denied. All Imperial citizens could rally behind one single leader, the Emperor, despite differing culture and traditions. Despite coming from different planets! Edd silently concluded that Terran humans couldn't say the same in unity. 

 "So, my other thing." McKenzie said and looked up from his contemplations. This tore Edd almost hearingly from his thoughts. 

 "What?" 

 "I've felt this... pulse, lately. Haven't you?" 

 "What do you mean?" 

 "The psychic pulse. You have to have felt it! It wasn't there six months ago. I mean, there are lots of untrained psykers here," McKenzie spat at the ground at this point. "But none of them have been of the power I've felt lately. They could at a height bend a spoon with their powers, if they trained their blunt minds, but this force... it's a danger to all of us." 

 Now Edd realized what McKenzie was talking about. "Now I know! I've also felt it, yes. It comes from our cul-de-sac..." 

 "I think I know from where." McKenzie said silently. "See, I fear this person has powers far greater than you and me put together..." 

 "What?" 

 "Yes, and if not trained, he will certainly attract a deamon, a very powerful such. Or maybe even attract a Hive Fleet or the robots we're currently considering a major threat." 

 "What do you mean 'he'? How can you be so sure it's a he?" 

 "Yesterday, I felt a strong force, a really strong force, when I stood there on the stage. You must've felt it too. It's coming from that boy with a plank by his side..." 

 "Jonny 2X4!" Edd said, his blood chilling at the thought that Jonny could become potential prey for a deamon. 

 "It's quite obvious, when you think about it." McKenzie said with a wry smile. 

 "Yes, he's always been talking about that Plank as it was a person." Edd replied with a thoughtful look. 

 "Then he's more talented than we think. He's probably psychically attuned the plank, so he considers it a person. Sadly though, it's probably inheriting a deamon, if we're unlucky. If lucky, it might contain the spirit of some long dead Eldarain hero." 

 "What do you mean 'psychically attune'?" Edd asked, feeling a bit ignorant for the first time in long. 

 "It means that you make an inanimate object capable of receiving psychic signals, like this piece of mahogany wood here." McKenzie held forth the tall staff. It looked more like a staff than a stick now. "This is however going to be a huge receptor for psychic energy, like the deamon staff you used two years ago." 

 "Oh, now I get it. So Jonny has attuned his subconsciously then?" 

 "Most probably. He wanted a friend so badly, I believe, that his power awoke and he created this Plank for himself." 

 Edd got up and decided not to stay for too long. He was getting hungry too. "Let's hope for Eldar Hero..." he muttered. 

 "Yes, we should." McKenzie replied quietly to himself. "Tell the others I'll be done by nightfall, and where they can find me. Those who wish to join our quest, shall come here then. Tell them that too." 

 Edd nodded silently and walked back to the campsite. McKenzie picked up one of the fine Wraithbone tools and carved a new line in the fine wood and started to sing silently in the Eldar tongue once again. 

 By nightfall, as McKenzie had predicted, the staff was finished, and the other two Marine commanders, the Eds and Rolf gathered by the meadow. None of the other kids had yet showed up, and, speaking frankly, the Eds weren't surprised. Ed caught a glimpse of the big staff McKenzie had created. 

 "Looks cool!" Ed exclaimed simply. 

 "Thank you, Ed." McKenzie replied politely. 

 "So, how are you supposed to power the thing then, even less use it?" McGranth asked, looking a bit concerned. "To me, it looks a whole lot of Eldarain, and last time I checked, Eldar weren't really trustworthy blokes..." 

 "No probs Eddie," McKenzie replied smiling. "I did it myself and I can use it quite efficiently, thank you. Besides, it's not Eldarain, well, not entirely. It is mostly deamon in its nature." 

 "WHAT?" McGranth said sounding shocked. To take help from deamons was the last thing he'd expected from McKenzie. 

 "I didn't have much of a choice. It's the only way to travel through the Warp without me needing to create a new warp-gate, and the Gate included material they don't have here." McKenzie made a pause and stroked the staff kindly. "Besides, I have found this!" 

 McKenzie pulled off the covering of moss from where he'd been sitting most of the day and revealed the same kind of socket that Edd had 'found' on Secondus. However, the runes weren't as unintelligible as the ones Edd had encountered. These seemed more human in nature. Like the Egyptian hieroglyphs. These were also written with the same kind of paint McKenzie had used for the staff: ithilmar. And, strangely, the socket for the crystal at the bottom of McKenzie's staff, seemed to fit it exactly. McGranth knew there was psychic-witchery to it all, but he didn't comment on it. 

 Charleston suddenly turned round and trained his plasma pistol at the sound he'd heard. This was a reflex, innate after over five hundred years of constant warfare. But he lowered his threatening aim as he saw that the sound had come from a boy, a boy that had been present yesterday. 

 "Hi guys!" Jonny said, as he got closer to them. He carried Plank with him, of course. 

 "Jonny, you mean you actually believe us?" Edd exclaimed, surprised at the joyful sound in his voice. 

 "Well, I still don't know, but Plank said it might be fun." Jonny said and joined the other seven. 

 "If I can ask, who's Plank?" Charleston asked, cocking an eyebrow and holstering his plasma pistol. 

 "He's my best friend." Jonny said and held up Plank for all to see. McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston just stared. 

 "I told you so..." Edd thought to McKenzie. 

 "Yes, I feel the presence now..." McKenzie replied by psychic means. "Jonny is truly psychic, and that can mean problems for us. That the Plank wants to go good be both good and bad, if you see what I mean?" 

 "Okay then Jonny, you're in on our quest." McKenzie said to Jonny. He restrained from doing psychically, it could've shocked the boy. 

 "Is your baby-sister coming, sergeant?" McGranth asked Ed, using the young man's rank. 

 "Nope, she and Jimmy left this morning. Anyway, it's going to be too dangerous for her and Jimmy, and I think they'd only get in the way." Ed replied. 

 "Can I insert something here?" McKenzie asked politely, raising a finger. 

 "Shoot, Master Lexicanum..." McGranth replied simply. 

 "I think it's time to rethink our Outlaw friends' ranks. They have more than well earned themselves higher ranks, and well..." 

 "They're Outlaws, McKenzie. That's not our concern. Besides, do you think we'll ever find armour for them, and the others?" 

 McKenzie fell silent upon this remark. Charleston seemed to ponder on something however. "But, aren't we all Outlaws? I mean, there's no longer an 

Imperium where we going, at least no Space Marine Legions..." 

 "Hopefully, Ed, there will be an Imperium!" McGranth snapped off his junior officer. 

 "But no Marines." Rolf said silently. "I made sure of that, last time we were there." 

 "Great!" McGranth said and sighed. He looked at McKenzie. "So what did you have in mind, Edward?" 

 "Well, I was thinking something like this, if we encounter human pockets of resistance, cause I doubt the Imperium has risen again," McKenzie made a pause, thinking on how to formulate himself. He sent down one hand into his pocket, and pulled it up again. "For the Terminator captain, Eddy, I have thought of granting the prestigious rank Commander of the 1st company. It's more or less only a brevet rank, but..." McKenzie fell silent. Eddy only nodded that he understood. That he was now formal commander of the Death Angel 1st company meant that he was no longer an Outlaw. 

 "Here, Commander Eddy, I grant you also the mark of the Order of the Deathwatch, the Inquisition's militant arm of Space Marines." McKenzie handed Eddy one of the small tokens he'd had in his hand. It was a small silver skull, with crossed bones and an 'I' behind it. He stuck it on his shirt. 

 (Author's Note: The Inquisitorial I looks somewhat like this: =I=, to make it simple for you) 

 "To young Edward," McKenzie said and held out a similar token to Edd, with the exception that the crossed bones had been replaced with two stylised lightning bolts. "I grant you the sign of the Order of the Deathwatch, but I also promote you to Epistolary Librarian. That makes you second in psyker rank to me. I also grant you the sub-name Keeper of the Keys, which is, as your friends rank, just brevet." 

 Edd bowed before the tall man in thanks. He was now as well as Eddy, a member of the Death Angel Legion. McKenzie turned to Ed. First he handed Ed the Deathwatch mark, the same as Eddy's. He also told him the same he'd told Edd and Eddy about the Deathwatch. 

 "I also grant you the rank of Lieutenant Commander of 8th Company, due to your non-selfish acting during times of great need." McKenzie said. He knew the stare he was receiving from Charleston as he uttered Ed's new rank. But McGranth seemed to catch what it all was about now. 

 "Well," McGranth said simply, turning to Charleston. "That means you're Commander of the 8th. Congrats Ed! Time to paint on another stripe on your arm!" 

 "I guess I have to!" Charleston said and smiled broadly. 

 "It was about bloody time anyway..." McGranth muttered. He'd been about to promote Charleston to Commander when Kharn invaded, and since then, it had slipped his mind, always. But now it was out of the world. In fact, McGranth had wanted to promote Charleston to commander of the 8th after the Ork/Berzerker invasion on Armageddon, but Sebastian had been adamant that he deserved the Mark of Armagon the better. To give you a comparison on how brilliant this mark is, it's comparable with the Lenin Order of the former Soviet Union, an order that mostly was dealt post-humusly. 

 Ed bowed as Edd had done before McKenzie and put the tiny mark on his shirt, just as Edd and Eddy had done. 

 "Your ranks will have to wait." McKenzie said over his shoulder towards the coming Kanker sisters. 

 "You heard us?" Lee asked startled. 

 "Something like that..." McKenzie muttered. 

 "So, you're coming too?" McGranth said flatly. 

 "Why not?" Lee said and shrugged. "We've got nothing better to do this summer." 

 "Besides, we couldn't let our boyfriends go off without us." Marie said and smiled. Edd swallowed. Ed started sweating. McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston stared at the three young boys. Eddy just glared at the Kankers. Although he didn't want to admit it, the last three years had been to the better for the Kankers. They'd all become more attractive, and it made Eddy feel odd. He knocked away the feeling. 

 "Not a word." Eddy grumbled forth to the three tall Marines. 

 "You address these three boys as your boyfriends." McKenzie suddenly said, his voice having a stern note to it. The Kankers nodded. "Then I hope you won't let your feelings guide you on this mission! This is no Sunday-trip!" The Kankers looked a bit beaten down, and Edd thought that McKenzie maybe was a bit hard on them. 

 A few minutes later, Nazz and Kevin came along as well. Eddy was thoroughly surprised. He hid it well though. He hadn't thought Kevin would come, even if it so concerned his life. Well, it did, more or less. 

 "Hi guys, wait for two more crusaders." Nazz said and smiled. To hear the word 'crusaders' over Nazz' lips felt odd. Maybe there was more to Nazz than giggles and good looks? 

 "I can't believe I'm doing this..." Kevin muttered. 

 "Ah, come on Kevin, it'll be fun." Nazz said and looked lovingly on Kevin. "Besides, you've always wanted to travel." 

 "Kevin," Edd said and smiled he too. "I can't believe you actually agreed to come." 

 "Get this straight, Double Dork, the only reason I'm here is to see the looks on your faces, when this... thingamabob malfunctions, or whatever." 

 McKenzie glared at Kevin, and gave Edd a psychic message. "Pleasant little so, and so, isn't he?" 

 Edd had a hard time to stop himself from smirking. 

 McKenzie turned to Nazz. "Young lady, I wouldn't use the word fun to describe our mission, cause what we're up against is the very master piece of a race that once created us humans." 

 "What do you mean?" Nazz asked. She didn't like the turn this was taking. 

 "Long story..." McKenzie said silently. He looked Nazz straight in the face. "You remind me so of Canoness Nazerine Almita of the Order of the 

Bloodied Rose..." 

 "What?" 

 McKenzie shook off his daydream. "Anyone else coming?" 

 "Nope." was Kevin's curt reply. McKenzie prayed that the boy's attitude didn't hamper their mission too much. There was too much of Brother Lieutenant Commander Poole about him. Far too much. 

 McKenzie wavered all off from the socket in the ground. He needed working room. "Okay people, stand back. What I'm going to release are immense psychic powers. If anyone who can't protect their mind gets too close, you'll find your brain all over the place." 

 This comment left McKenzie with a ten metres wide berth. He smiled. Grabbing the staff with both hands and closing his eyes, he began a chant in the Imperial Nobility's tongue: High Gothic. 

 "What's he doing?" Kevin asked astonished, his voice a whisper. He hung on to every word that the tall, thin man was uttering. 

 "Praying." was McGranth's simple reply. 

 Kevin, Jonny, Nazz and the Kankers stared at him, and then on McKenzie, and then back at McGranth. 

 "What, it's common where we come from." McGranth said and looked surprised that the children did not know the delicate procedure of psychics. 

 At the socket, or pedestal, McKenzie opened his eyes, a blue light shining from them. He raised the staff high into the air, the psychic energies loaded into it jumping and sparkling of its surface, barely contained by McKenzie's iron will. The big, sapphire at the bottom of the staff glowed nearly white of barely contained energies. With a few sweeping gestures and a sentence of a completely alien tongue, McKenzie slammed home the staff into the socket and turned it half a turn. 

 Eddy suddenly felt that his lips were moist. He licked them and felt the taste of metal. Taking a few steps backwards, we wiped away the blood that had come from his nose. He knew he'd been standing too close. He didn't want to think what could've happened if he'd stood even closer. He once again focused his thoughts on McKenzie. He'd seen this before. Edd had done it on Secondus, but with a staff that had been crafted by a deamon, and that still had had some of the deamon's power in it. 

 The white light had subsided from McKenzie's eyes. Instead, the white light was now travelling ever upwards in the staff. The Master Lexicanum let go off the staff and backed off he too. At the top of the staff, a beautiful, golden, twin-headed Imperial Eagle was situated. As the light spread to the Eagle, the gold seemed to burst. White streaks of light shone through cracks that originally hadn't been more than visible for a microscope. Suddenly, with a roar, the energies broke loose from the staff and roared up, through the canopy of the surrounding trees in the meadow. What followed was an unearthly silence. No birds sung, nothing. It was as if the world had stopped. 

 "Yeah, right, like it was going to work." Kevin said and smiled. Eddy knew better. "I told you dorks..." 

 Kevin was cut short as the roaring sound returned. The white beam of psychic power had apparently taken a turn somewhere up in the sky and came crashing down into the staff again. Blast and shockwave threw them all to the ground, except McGranth, who stood steadily on the ground in his nearly 300 kilos heavy armour. There was dust in the air, and no one could really see what had happened immediately. Rolf took his time in trying to find his peaked cap. As he put it back on, back brim first, he turned to look at where the staff had stood. He recognized the bowel-turning colours of the Warp at once. McKenzie had done it. Of the staff, however, there was no trace. It had obviously been atomised by the sheer force striking down at it. 

 McKenzie got up and dusted himself down. "Everybody get through the hole, now! It's not open for very long!" 

 McGranth took the initiative, followed by Rolf, Charleston, and the Eds, Jonny, the girls and lastly McKenzie. The hole closed behind them with a sucking sound. The only thing that marked that there once had been a Warp Portal there was the burnt out crater of the socket and the shattered remains of a golden Imperial Eagle statuette. 

 Kevin would, after this adventure was done, never more want to Warp travel like this. He thought it had felt as he had fallen as soon has he'd stepped into the strange hole. The falling feeling had been replaced by the feeling of being stretched out and suddenly and painfully slammed into a wall. Still, he'd been able to walk out at their destination. McKenzie never told the others, but he'd used the warp signature of Kharn monolith on Armageddon as guidance. Place was no problem, but time was, so he'd made a hefty guess. 

 As the twelve humans were thrown through the Warp, two shadowy figures watched them. They were both winged, and they both were muscular. Two pairs of burning red eyes watched the dozen as they made their way through one thousand light-years of normal space. Then, suddenly, the two shadows disappeared into darkness, as only shadows can. 

 The humans hadn't given up yet, that was for sure. And the new non-biological threat, well, it was just as much a threat as these twelve humans... 

                                                                                       To Be Continued


	2. Men, EDs and Machines

Men, EDs and Machines

"The stern-faced leaders in their temple of doom

Creating nightmares made for me and for you

Here come the raiders they're invading us all

We stand in silence with our backs to the wall"

**        --Excerpt from Gamma Ray's Damn The Machine **

 In the galactic south of the Imperium of Mankind lies one of the most notorious of its Hive Worlds: Armageddon. It was aptly named, cause it really was the end of all; it had seemed to the first colonists. Rumours went, that a general in the predecessor of the Imperial Guard had coined the name. He had exclaimed that this seemed like the end of the world, but in his own native tongue: _"Shima tikre ountar tirmal edla harmagedon!"_ or roughly: "This looks like we've come to the end of worlds!" But as said, it was only a rumour, a legend. Just like that of the Eagle, the Wolf and the Hound of Chaos. 

 Armageddon had a very adaptable plant and animal life, it had appeared. The many volcanoes erupted oftenly and with force. The worst regions being that of the East of the Acheron Meridian. They had so many volcanoes, that the people dubbed it the Fire Wastes. Later, the Fire Wastes would prove to have one of the richest ore findings throughout the Imperium. To the West of the Acheron Meridian, however, there were no volcanoes, and due to Armageddon's peculiar rotation, most of the year on that part was left in darkness. This left it very cold, making the colonists name it the Deadlands, as nothing seemed to live in the cold. They were wrong. Unlike the 80 degrees Celsius sands of the Fire Wastes where nothing lived, many creatures lived and thrived in the icy Deadlands, like the six metres tall snow grizzly, a hideous predator. Its prey consisted mostly of the small, but numerous feathered lizards: ice lizards that lived on fish and the like in the seas of Armageddon. But these creatures are since long gone, due to the epitaph of survival of the fittest. 

 The reasons are as follows: Armageddon once was a lush, green forest covered planet, with the exception of the Fire Wastes and the Deadlands, and people settled down there, on the fields that were, and lived of agriculture. Then, when the ores where discovered in the East, and the oil in the Deadlands, Armageddon quickly was turned to industry. The Imperium's rulers (the Emperor mortally wounded from his fight with Karzhan and no longer fit to rule in the eyes of his minions) used the template from the first true Hive World: Ichar. Eight major Hives were quickly erected (count a few hundred years as relatively quick) and several minor ones. The major hives were to be named as follows, in no special order: Death Mire (due to its surroundings), Volcanus, Tempestora, Acheron, Infernus, Helsreach, Tartarus and Hades. Many huge factory complexes were also built, in the middle of nowhere. The lush, planet covering forest was reduced to a small strip that departed the continents Armageddon Prime and Armageddon Secundus form each other, and supplied the planet with oxygen. 

 Most of the animals fled into this thin strip, and the jungle became placed under protection of the Imperial Law. But not all animals fled to the jungle, some fled to the mountain ranges Diabolus and Palidus, where no sound human would go, these two mountain ranges housing some of the biggest volcanoes known. Amongst the fleeing animals, were tribes of feral Orks, who'd probably been there since the dawn of time. Humans have encountered them on every planet they've began colonizing, for record. 

 But there were those animals that didn't flee, and those plants that survived the horrible toxins and poisons spread out by the human factories. Most of the plants were tiny shrubs and cactuses, plants that could survive months without water, and then storing gallons of it, when the Season of Storms broke after the Season of Shadows. These plants also quickly became highly toxic to all animals that tried to eat them, as the plants took their water from the polluted rains that came from the Ash Wastes, which were created by the many factories and Hives. But amongst the herbivores on Armageddon, two have proved superior. The first being the Rock Turtle; it looks like a rock when it pulls in its head and legs. Its hard shell has saved it from many a predator, humans and Orks included. It's not too big, about half a metre high. The much bigger then is the second herbivore: the Seven feet armadillo. This armadillo is, as its name implores, seven feet long. It's not truly an armadillo, as it's no mammal as such. Only reptilian animals have proved successful out in the Wastelands of Armageddon. The Armadillo lays eggs, which easily can be mistaken for rocks. Humans and Orks oftenly miss them, but some animals don't. 

 Like the Sand Raptor. The Raptor is a bi-pedal dinosaur, the size of a horse. It lives mainly on eggs from the Seven feet armadillo and the Rock Turtle, but it can attack and kill young turtles and armadillos, but never grown ups. Armageddon natives (humans as well as Ork) take the eggs that the Raptor lays and nurses them themselves, to get the perfect riding beast for the climate of Armageddon. 

 The most dangerous of all animals on Armageddon, however, are the 20+ metres long Armageddon Ash Waste Sand Cobras! These beasts usually become a length of 30 to 40 metres, but there have been reports of a huge wyrm living in the Plains of Anthrand. The rumours say that this wyrm is full 200 metres long, and has lived on Armageddon since the first human colonists arrived. It's the mother of all cobras. The sand cobras in general aren't too picky about their food. They eat what the heck they feel like. In times of dire need, it can happen that they eat smaller cobras. Many are the Ash Waste adventurers on Armageddon that have ended up as a Sand Cobra's dinner. 

 But, this isn't the story of Armageddon's plant life and ecological system. It's about men and machines, and their eternal struggle to get control over the other. And it was just fitting for Armageddon: It had never been a peaceful world. From the days when the colonists tried to push back the Orks from the fields, through the Deamon Age, into the Age of the Imperium when Kevlinn invaded and took it under command. The numerous wars waged upon him and Armageddon's final and inevitable liberation at the hands of Commissar-general Rolf Yarrick. Smaller civil wars, the Genestealer incursions and the Chaos Cults of the Underhives also wracked Armageddon. But the battle that became Armageddon's last, was also its most glorious (how wars now can be glorious). A huge alliance of Orks and Berzerkers invaded the poorly prepared Armageddonians and almost all resistance was swept away at once. But, despite this, Armageddon held through it all. And in the end, how you twist and turn it, it was down to one man: 

 Imperial Commissar Sebastian Yarrick, the Saviour of Hades Hive. And it's in that very Hive that this story begins in its true nature: 

 Hades had changed, that was obvious. Where children had played, and people gone on market to buy their daily needs, these places were now empty. A ghostly feel was over the huge hive city. Hades was built to house a full seven billions of people. To even think the fact that such a big thing can be suddenly abandoned and left empty is a scary thought. And it had been abandoned in a hurry. Apartments and habs remained as they were, people only grabbing the most essential and setting off. Mag-lev bikes had been thrown away as people had thought it sounder to go by foot, or just that the mag-lev rails had seized working. In the many ports, several Thunderhawk transports remained. It was as if people hadn't cared of the interstellar ships, and tried to get out of the Hives, into the wastelands instead. Overall, the city looked normal. The scars from the Last Armageddon War was still visible, but it was unsure if those scars would ever go away... The city of Hades remained as it always had, waiting in vain for its inhabitants to return. 

 The great Crystal Oak, that was like a trademark for Hades Hive, had grown wildly the last four hundred years. It stole most of the artificial light on Upper Hive Lv 45. But, still, it was a crystal plant, from Elysium, and the light filtered through the patchworks of twigs and branches and through the leaves and the tree itself, due to its semi-transparent, glass-like construction. It had broken through the wall surrounding it on several places, but still the water remained in the fountain around it. Not far from the Crystal Oak, about a few hundred metres, a statue stood. It had been left untouched by whatever had scared the inhabitants of Hades away. It was also unscathed by the claws of time. 

 The statue was of an old man, dressed in the greatcoat and peaked cap of an Imperial Commissar. In his left hand he held a mighty storm bolter and his right arm ended at the elbow. It was replaced by a huge Orkish so-called battle claw. He raised his huge claw in defiance towards the northwest, and the ruins of an old pyramid, a monolith and the wreckage of a so-called Space Hulk. The old man didn't only miss an arm. He also missed his left eye, it being replaced by a bionic implant. He stood upon a heap of Orkish skulls and Berzerkers' helmets. On the base of the statue, one thing could be read on each side. On the one facing the Crystal Oak, one could read the following: 

 **Commissar Sebastian Yarrick, Saviour of Hades Hive. **

** _"Iron Will, Iron Fist"_**

 In smaller lettering above it, one could read: **"This statue was erected in honour of"**. 

 On the side facing away from the Crystal Oak, one could read one of Sebastian Yarrick's most famous quotes: 

 **_"The green tide of Orkdom is upon us and we are alone. There can be no mercy. No surrender. If we survive this day it'll be a miracle!" _**

 Underneath the quote, a text could be found, though it had been covered in dust over the years. Overall, the old man seemed to be looking back at past glories and lost honours and memories. 

 By the Crystal Oak, the silence was suddenly broken by a whining sound, as a Warp portal opened itself. Out stepped a smaller group of men and women. Stepped, well, the majority fell out of the hole and onto the concrete ground of Hades. Of the squirming mass of children, one could make out a camouflaged greatcoat. Rolf struggled out of the pile and stood up and looked around. McKenzie, being the last one to step out of the hole, his leg nearly cut off by the closing portal, took a deep breath and took in the surroundings. As he saw the Crystal Oak, he knew full well where he was. 

 "Ah, Hades Hive!" he exclaimed and looked around. "It's been such time! It feels so... wet..." 

 McKenzie looked down and saw that he was standing knee-deep in the water of the fountain. He got out of the fountain and smiled sheepishly towards the others. Now firstly did he notice that the hive was abandoned. "Not good," he muttered. 

 The rest of the kids had now gotten to their feet. They looked awestruck at the surroundings. They'd never seen anything like this before. The huge, spike-like Gothic buildings. The many gargoyles and eagles carved out of stone and the fine mica-glass windows. The fact the entire place was abandoned didn't seem to concern them. Kevin still had the strange and giddy feeling left from his first warp-travel. 

 "Ooh, what was that?" he asked. "Better yet, where are we?" 

 "We appear to be on Armageddon," Edd said carefully. "A name that really fits this Hive world. It lies in the galactic south of the Imperium." Edd didn't mention his concern over that the entire place was abandoned. 

 "You mean we're really in another solar system?" Nazz asked. "We really did it?" 

 Yep," Eddy replied. "We're a full one thousand light-years away from Earth." 

 McKenzie turned round and saw the statue of Sebastian Yarrick. "What do we have here?" he said and strolled off. The others followed far behind. After a few minutes, it had gone up for the kids that a thing this big, shouldn't be so empty. It seemed like a ghost town. 

 "Hey look!" Charleston shouted and ran towards the statue as he recognized the person, almost flattening McKenzie in the process. "It's Sebbie! But, I can't remember he had a statue erected over him?" Charleston said with a thumbing. 

 "Who's Sebbie?" Kevin asked, cocking an eyebrow. The old man looked imposing, despite his obvious age. There was something familiar with him, Kevin thought. He recognized the nose and the overall facial structure. He threw a glance at Rolf, and then back at the statue. "Naaah!" Kevin said in disbelief. 

 "That's Commissar Sebastian Yarrick." McKenzie said as he walked forward to read the inscription on it. 

 "Guess it must've been erected while we prepared the defences elsewhere..." McGranth said and looked up at the statue. Sebastian had been a good friend of him, just as the commissar general had. "How far into the future do you think we are, Master Lexicanum?" 

 "About four hundred years after the Fall of the Imperium, I guess." McKenzie said as he read what it said. Some of it was written in High Gothic, and he'd gotten a bit rusty. 

 "And from the time we had on Terra?" 

 "Maybe seven hundred years..." McKenzie replied simply. McGranth couldn't believe it. 700 years! Had it been that long since the Outlaws first showed up for the Imperial citizens? And how the heck had McKenzie been able to take them through so many years of time? Seemed impossible. 

 "What does it read?" Charleston asked as he looked over McKenzie's shoulder. 

 "It says that this is a statue erected in honour of Seb. And it also states his personal motto." McKenzie walked round the base to the other side. "Here it reads one of his most famous quotes:" McKenzie read it out to the others. "Seems he was no optimist." McKenzie brushed away the dust covering the last of the text. As it was written in High Gothic, it took a while for him to interpret it, but when he finished it, he looked crossly at Charleston. "Can I have a word with you?" 

 Charleston swallowed hard. He understood what McKenzie had read. He had seen through his lie those many years ago that had made them abandon the Imperium and go for the Outlaws. 

 "I remember you said Sebastian was killed by a Dark Eldar dark lance, right?" McKenzie asked briskly. Charleston nodded meekly. McGranth was also a bit intrigued of what McKenzie had found out. "Then," McKenzie said and showed the text he'd read. "How comes it reads here they found his dead and broken body, outside the Imperial Palace some four hundred years ago? There was no sign of violence on his body; except for his broken back and that he was obviously dead. Dead, from that his power claw had been rammed into his old body!" McKenzie crossed his arms over his chest and looked sternly on Charleston. 

 "You lied to us, brother commander?" McGranth said and looked shocked. 

 "I believe he has, Grand Commander." McKenzie replied, not letting go of Charleston with his gaze for a second. Charleston gave up and sighed. 

 "Okay, I admit it; I lied!" he said with an open-handed gesture. "But did I have a choice? I knew what you would say if I told you the truth. We'd be stuck in the Imperium, and these children would most certainly find themselves slaves to darkness! I lied, with a clean conscience, that we would avenge, not only Sebastian, but also the entire Imperium and the Emperor, given our time! We could in no way have defeated Kharn as it was! He had for crying out loud the Axe of Khorne or Khaine or whatever, again! He retained the damned thing on Armageddon, here! He only invaded Armageddon as a distraction, and I knew it! He only wanted the Axe back, and for that, he pulled upon himself the attention of three full Space Marine Legions and unnumbered Imperial Guard. And he nearly won, brothers, he nearly won." 

 "Then why didn't you tell us so, Ed?" McGranth said and looked distrustfully upon his friend. 

 "I tried, but no one cares to listens to the big and obviously stupid Lieutenant Commander of the Assault Company!" Charleston made a pause to regain his breath and let this sink in. This had obviously been brewing in him for a long time. "Just because I'm tall and brawny, doesn't mean I'm dumb." he continued in a calmer voice. "Sebastian knew it too, but again, no one listened to him. His grandfather hadn't either, you know, the day he was killed. Neither did Luthor von Strab, Herman ignored him and Holt... well, that's another story. Seb told me stuff that no one else would listen too, and I always knew what he meant, and that it was undoubtedly true. Seb and I shared the same ability; to solve puzzles that seemed unsolvable to others." Charleston turned to McKenzie. "Sebbie undoubtedly told you about Holt, but did you listen? No! He told me before he paid his visit to Holt, and I believed in his theory, cause it sounded okay. He trusted me more than you, Edward, because I listened to him!" 

 McKenzie stood dumbstruck for a while. Then he silently nodded. It was time to pay more attention to his friend. Both he and McGranth had always seen Charleston as someone acting under them, not someone to listen to. He just did as he was told, and that was it. Charleston never complained; he did his duty with delight, it seemed. But apparently, he'd had other things on his mind, all the time. 

 Jonny broke the sudden silence between the assembled humans. 

 "This place sure is quiet," Jonny whimpered, pulling Plank closer to him. "Where is everybody?" 

 "He's got a point," Eddy agreed. "Shouldn't there be people here?"

 "I don't understand," McKenzie muttered as he scratched his head. "It appears as though the entire hive was abandoned, and in a hurry!" 

 "Why should somebody just up and leave a whole city empty?" Ed wondered as he looked up at the huge construction that was the main spine. 

 "I don't know," McGranth answered with a shrug of his armoured shoulders. "Commander, Master Lexicanum, I suggest we go take a look. You guys," McGranth said, turning to the others, "You stay here. Rolf, I put the responsibility of their safe-keeping on your shoulders." 

 Rolf saluted, and seeing he'd made his point, McGranth moved away form the plaza with the others two Marines. They walked down an alleyway named UHLv45/56lj, or by most Hadesians: Rue Morgue (Road of the Dead), due to the fact that many dark and hideous murders had been conducted on this alleyway, despite it being so high up into the Spire. 

 Looking down upon the three Marine officers were nearly faceless gargoyles and angels. Saints looked down on them from the arched windows of the gothic buildings. McKenzie made a simple flex of his mind, finding no other life than themselves and the kids back at the statue. 

 "I don't like this..." McKenzie said quietly, "Where is everyone?" 

 As he said that, the three got out of the alleyway and out to another plaza. This, however, carried clear signs from battle. A statue had stood in the middle, or if it was a monument; it was hard to tell, nothing was left of it. McKenzie let a faint gasp leave his lips as he saw the incredible destruction. McGranth simply nodded. He'd seen the kind of damage a lascannon could do when it hit rockrete. This was far worse. Something, undoubtedly something big, had destroyed most of the plaza with controlled and sustained bursts of some high-energy, rapid-fire weapon. Probably a gatling-system, as it was called in the Imperium. 

 "Look at this place..." Charleston said and gave a low whistle. "It's a disaster area, so I guess they had to evacuate." Unwillingly, he trailed his hand down to his power sword's resting place at his belt. 

 "Evacuate from what, is what I'd like to know..." McGranth said, grabbing his storm bolter firmly. He had a weird gut feeling, which he didn't like. 

 High up above the Space Marine officers, something was watching them, intently. It's nearly invisible in the shadows, but its red, unblinking eyes revealed it to be a mechanoid being. It's been on a long stalk, for months now. Finally, something to report. Twisting its inhumanly agile body, the shadow climbs upwards, towards the up-link mast of Hades Hive Main Spire. 

 Somewhere out in the Warp, on the fringe between the mortal realm and the domains of the etherworld Deamons, a huge ship is waiting. Waiting, for what, a human can never comprehend. The ship carries designs that would make one think it was Eldar, though it seemed too technologically advanced to be Eldar, ironically. As a matter of fact, it's the design of the old, fallen C'tan culture. On it, resides one of the last members of that ancient and powerful race, a race capable of creating new worlds and new races to inhabit them, to do their bidding. Despite that, the C'tan are forever gone, replaced by their own creations; Eldar and humans, although the Eldar have begun to dwindle in number them too. Of the many races in the galaxy, only the Orks, and the interstellar race of planet-eaters called simply the Hive Fleets, are not created by the C'tan. The deamons, being what they are, are the very stuff of our nightmares, thus making them linked to any creatures that thinks and has dreams... 

 Back to the ship; there's something else with it, that is wrong, or off, so to say. There's no artificial atmosphere. Whatever lives on it, is not biological. 

 In one of the part of the big ship, a chamber is situated. The chamber is a masterpiece of C'tan design. Not a centimetre of the adamant like Wraithbone is off. On Eldar ships, the Wraithbone would contain the souls of the dead. Here, its purpose is solely artistic. In the middle of the chamber a six metres high, battle suit-like piece of armour stands. It goes in the same moods as the C'tan architecture; with the great exception this was the design of war. The body is powerfully set, but there's still an air of agility over it. This is further heightened by its legs: long, lean legs, ending in bird-like feet. The arms are powerful and armoured to take shots that would pass through a Leman Russ battle tank. On the forearms, different weapons are mounted; on the right a beam-weapon like the ones the Necron warriors use and on the left, a huge, gatling, multi-barrelled high-energy pulse gun, designed to blow holes in the leg armour of Titans is situated. On the back of the big suit of armour, a jump-pack like flying system is placed. Its biggest difference from the jump-pack of the Imperium is that the exhausts are mounted on joints, making them movable, for increased agility in the air and that it takes its energy from an Eldar spiritstone, of the bigger size. The one thing spoiling the whole picture is that there's no head on the figure. The head rests on a platform nearby. Half of it still remains from its original lizard C'tan looks; the other half is a mechanoid death's mask. On the mechanoid head's half, on the right side, a tiny laser is mounted on the side of the head. Both the mechanoid and the biological eye are closed. The creature seems resting. 

 This creature is none other than Master War General Metallix, military commander of the Necrons. He was once C'tan in his nature, but that was so many thousands of years ago, he's even forgotten the name he used then. He doesn't even see himself as C'tan any more. He's Necron, and that's period. Those who beg to differ, find their viscera on the other end of the room. 

 A sound is heard from outside the chamber. The head remains still, but the body awakes and moves agilely over to the head. The three-fingered hands grab the head and puts it on top of its shoulders. Leads connect and electrical impulses are sent through the bionic brain of Metallix. Opening his eyes, Metallix looks at the chamber door. With a simple command, he knows, he'll allow the Necron Immortal ranked soldier on the other side to enter. By not uttering the word, the droid will remain outside, until it's let in. It won't complain over such treating. Inwardly, Metallix smiles, his outwardly face unable to project feelings since he received his new brain and face. 

 "Vostoria!" Metallix speaks in the hard-clipped tongue of the Necrons. The C'tan tongue, containing too many soft sounds for the droids to be able to master, had been bastardised over the aeons into Necron, a curt, hard language spoken by roughly one hundred million beings in the galaxy. 

 (For the readers convenience, I'm going to present just this first part in Necron, with human interpretation, but after that, the Necrons will speak English, but only when they conversate between each other. I could, of course, continue to have the Necron tongue represented, but as I'm lazy, that will only occasionally happen from now on. Vostoria means enter, by the way.) 

 The Immortal entered through the door. It stood a good pace over two metres, but it was bulky in its frame, giving it a clumsy but strong appearance, which was much the case of its abilities. 

 "Ser, ortetie nardho terha nakin voklen panra lurin. Armageddon." the Immortal said simply, saluting the leader with the Necron salute. 

 _(Sir, report of human scum on captured world. __Armageddon.)_

 "Duutame sankre plantra etsi lurin nardho terha nakin?" Metallix asked, as softly as possible in his tongue. 

_ (Did you not clear this world of human scum?) _

 "Mant, ser, sener imoe pontre nedanse." the Immortal replied, a slight tone of disgust in its mechanical voice.

 _(Yes, sir, there have appeared recently.)_

 Metallix had made them self-conscious, but not so self-conscious that they got moral qualms. They did, however, have feelings, but not to the same extent as true mortals. Metallix thanked his friend Daimien (as the humans called him) for this extra bonus. To have robots feeling hatred but no remorse, that was deliciously horrible... 

 Metallix walked over to a wall, in which a hole appeared from out of nowhere. Opening his hand and showing his palm before the hole, tentacle like cords shot out and attached itself to the hole. Before his eyes, Metallix saw what the recon robot had seen. It displeased him, and amused him at the same time. It was an odd feeling. It had been an odd feeling to attack their own creation, as Daimien had put it, but in the years that had passed, it was obvious that the humans didn't have any memory of their creators. Metallix couldn't see why this was; he remembered the humans clearly. How they'd served his every whim... And now he was systematically exterminating them. The universe was insane, he concluded, as he saw the collection of children by the statue. Metallix got a sting in his 'heart', as he remembered past times, when he'd been joyful to see human families at his old home. How the children had run around, playing and joking. Metallix had liked children, be they human, Eldar or even the few C'tan children that had been born... Metallix knocked the sentimental feeling away. These people were obviously there to destroy him, no other reason than that! 

 He changed perspective and saw the three Marine officers. His reconnaissance Necron had proved well in its duty, taking good shots of their faces. Metallix knew the armour colorization: Death Angel Legion. He tapped into the databank he had found on Ichar, the Death Angel's home planet and compared the faces of the Marine officers with the records form Ichar. 

 He received the service records for three men: Eddie McGranth, Edmund Charleston and Edward McKenzie. He studied them all, showing great interest for all of them. The Charleston-human had obviously defended Armageddon with that old commissar that the Ork Ghazghkull Thraka had been ranting about. Good that the Ork was rid of now... Metallix thought. 

 The McKenzie was a psyker; a very powerful psyker. Necrons didn't have psychic powers, but the C'tan had. Maybe Damion would find the psyker useful? 

 Metallix almost stopped reading and calculating data as he got to McGranth. The service record and honour roll of the Grand Commander was immense. His losses had only come at an early age, as eager and over-zealous warrior, but as he'd grown older, it was obvious he'd become an opportunist of grand scale, but also a great tactician. McGranth had obviously out-witted someone called the Dark Lord in these references many times. Metallix had no idea as to whom this Dark Lord was, but he kept wondering why the humans had settled down in a cluster of systems so rife with deamons? Oh well, that didn't matter now. 

 "Perhaps, I've found a worthy opponent at last, but only perhaps... Firstly, a test... " Metallix said to himself in his deep voice. He released himself from the databank and turned to the soldier. "What do we have stationed in that area?" 

 "In Hades Hive, Armageddon, we have one host stationed, sir!" the Immortal replied rapidly. 

 "Send three squads of Warriors and accompanying Scarabs to the humans location. I don't think we'll need more, do you?" Metallix said, trying a smile on his dead face. It was an odd feeling having no mouth any more. 

 "No, sir, we don't." the Immortal replied, bowing and leaving his lord alone. 

 As the soldier left, Metallix walked deeper into the chamber, into the darkness of the unlit places of it. Metallix superior C'tan vision adjusted easily to the gloom and he walked up to a glass tube of gargantuan proportions. Inside the glass tube, giving the closest surroundings a ghostly green highlight, a huge, emerald green crystal hovered. Metallix gently touched the glass surrounding of the crystal, something ancient and longing in his one, biological eye. The crystal was surrounded by what seemed like smoke... 

 "Let's see what the great Grand Commander of the Death Angels can do, shall we?" Metallix said to no one in particular. 

 The glow from the crystal increased in pulses. 

 Back on Armageddon, McKenzie and McGranth had joined up with the kids again. Charleston wasn't with them, but McGranth said he'd gone to see if there was any Thunderhawks left. 

 "If we're going to get off this rock, we'll need one." McGranth said and sighed. He leaned himself at the foot of the great statue of Sebastian Yarrick. 

 McKenzie was pacing up and down, obviously unnerved. Something was not right when McKenzie behaved that way; McGranth knew it very well. Involuntarily, he gave a shrug. There was something not quite right with Hades Hive... 

 Charleston was nearly a kilometre away from his friends, walking up and down the lines of Thunderhawks he'd found. He was happy that Hades wasn't like other Armageddonian Hives, having its ports quite far down, in relation to the others. It seemed Hadesians cared more for the workers and common habbers than the nobles. The Thunderhawks weren't pretty sights. Charleston cursed silently as he walked down the line over the incompetence of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Although they had claimed to know everything about machines, when it came to it, they didn't know a crap. They thought, just like McKenzie, that there was a machine spirit in the mechanical things that were created, and that these spirits could be soothed by sigils and incantations. Charleston snorted at such behaviour. He hadn't uttered one sacred litany over his jump pack ever. Instead, he'd maintained it precariously, and it had never failed to him. He'd taught all Assault troopers coming after him the very same, putting him under the scrutinizing gaze of the Adeptus Mechanicus. 

 Charleston stopped by a Thunderhawk that seemed to have been spared by the worst rust. He saw that the name of it was Nighthawk. He was still muttering curses under his breath towards the Adeptus Mechanicus. He checked the landing gears; they seemed okay. Pulling a finger across a joint, finding it soaked in oil, he smiled. He took a look on the wings; they were strangely enough armed with two Strike IV rockets each and an assault-cannon gatling each. This ship was apparently meant for escort of the others. Now came the horrible part, where most ships maintained by the Mechanicus failed in Charleston's tests: to see if the engines were in working order. The Thunderhawk transports had two kind of engines; two on the wings for atmospheric travel and three in the rear for interstellar travel. Most didn't have a proper Warp-drive. Charleston checked the interstellar rocket engines first. They had some dirt in them, but otherwise they seemed fine. Before checking the atmospheric drive, he opened a hatch and went into the Thunderhawk. A rush of air hit him, some hundred of years old. It smelled odd, a bit thicker than the air that Charleston now breathed. Stepping into the 'Hawk, Charleston checked the fuel; the levels were okay, but if McKenzie had ideas for longer trips, he'd need to refuel. Something on the control board caught Charleston's eyes: he'd never seen this in a Thunderhawk before. 

 He took a inspection of it all, and made the conclusion that it was a Warp-drive. This sucker was meant to travel between systems! Charleston felt the joy rise inside him. No wonder it seemed in better shape than the others. The Warp-drive equipped 'Hawks were just developed when Kharn attacked and the Imperium fell, so there was never any greater use for them. But it seemed such a highly industrialized world as Armageddon had managed to nab a few. 

 Stepping out of the cockpit, Charleston decided to check the main engines. There was one mounted on each wing. The left one was okay, but the right one was full of dirt, for unknown reasons. Charleston started to take it out and soon realized it wasn't only dirt... I was the remains of a very long dead body. Bacteria had broken it down into dirt. Some poor son had been thrown towards the engine. Why, Charleston didn't want to know. 

 As he pulled out the dirt, he threw a quick glance to the left and froze. He looked again. Charleston saw nearly a hundred, red, slanted unblinking eyes staring at him. He heard the creeping sound of the Scarabs' legs as they crept closer. Pulling out his plasma pistol, Charleston hoped that nagging feeling of being watched had been McKenzie. 

McKenzie looked up sharp from his ponderings. He'd been monitoring Charleston's brainwaves, and a wave of stress had just gone through the man's head. And McKenzie knew why. He didn't have to turn to McGranth; the grand commander had seen the psyker's sudden movement. McGranth almost felt a bit ashamed that he found it joyful that something finally happened. After all, he'd spent a lifetime fighting the enemies of mankind, and he didn't know much else than how to lay up a battle plan that couldn't fail. 

 "Okay," McGranth said to no one in particular. "Seems Charleston has gotten into a bit of a situation. Commissar, you assist me and McKenzie, you others stay out of the way, as good as you can." He could think of much else right now, he needed to see the enemy first, to get an even better order from his lips, but this would suffice for now. 

 The group followed McKenzie, whom quickly made his way towards the star port. The slender Marine had pulled out both bolt pistol and force sword. The blade of the psychic weapon shone with a bright blue colour and McKenzie unlocked the safety lock on the bolt pistol, thumbing in a different kind of ammunition than the common bolts. Rolf took up a rear guard, the Yarrickian sword held two-handed. 

 When they arrived at the star port, they saw what Charleston was fighting. Necrontyr warriors and tiny Scarabs overwhelmed the big Marine. Rolf moved up to support the others and the kids took refuge behind another Thunderhawk. 

 "Ed! Get the frekk out of our line of fire!" McGranth shouted. Without warning, Charleston activated the thrusters of his jump pack and flew out of the way, so that McKenzie and McGranth could fire their bolt weapons at the mechanoids. Controlled bursts of Kraken Penetrators burst they head of many Necrons on sprays of oil and otherworldly fluids. McKenzie noticed the tiny, beetle-like Scarab attached to Charleston's leg before it had the chance to detonate itself, and McKenzie destroyed it with a psychic impel. Drawing his force sword, he joined the fray together with his Grand Commander, Charleston and Rolf. Swinging left and right with his sword, he cut off arms and severed torsos from legs, but the Necrons repaired themselves. McKenzie ducked away from the glaive of one of the mechanoids. This was not good. 

 McGranth attacked the Necrons with sheer force, slamming down his massive power axe into the head of one of the glaive-armed warriors. The shots of the Necrons and the hacks from their strange knives didn't do more than scratch his ancient suit of Terminator Armour. He made a quick glance around the "battle-field" and immediately saw that this wasn't good. Changing clip in his storm bolter in a matter of seconds, he took up new aim and blew twenty or so Scarabs into oblivion. He saw Charleston blowing big holes in the Nercrontyrs' torsos with his plasma pistol, only to see them repaired seconds later. Charleston spun round, thrusting his power sword through the head of one Necron. He didn't see the glaive armed one appear behind him. 

 "Commander, behind you!" McGranth shouted, feeling a sting in his right shoulder. He looked round, and saw the death's mask that was the face of a Necron Lord. The thing had snuck up on him an unguarded moment... 

 In the meantime, Charleston spun round and atomised the head of the Necron behind him with a powerful punch of his huge fist. As he did this, he saw Rolf, jumping and dodging the Necrons with ease. Charleston felt a bit awed by the young man's capabilities. He knew how agile and lithe the commissar general had been, refusing to wear armour, as it would hamper his movements, but this boy was almost better. Charleston guessed it was because of the lad's young body. 

 McKenzie turned when he heard the scream from his grand commander. The mighty Necron Lord was all over him. Focusing, McKenzie sent a surge of electric power through the droid. He hoped he would short-circuit something. He soon found himself joined by another force. It was Edd. The boy joined in with glee it seemed. McKenzie couldn't blame him. He'd also been eager for battle. The time on Terra had been all too calm. He didn't like it so much. Maybe this was something that had been gleaned down to the Space Outlaws as well? McKenzie wasn't sure. 

 "What do we do?" Ed asked. He wished so he could be out fighting with his friend. Edd was lucky to have psychic powers. He looked at Eddy, as seeking help. 

 "We get into the Thunderhawk." Eddy replied simply, a stern look on his face. The Nighthawk wasn't long away from where they stood. The sprint would be short and easy. "Let's go!" 

 With that, Ed and Eddy darted off, taking no heed to the other six cul-de-sac kids. Kevin looked shocked. They were abandoning them? 

 "I can't believe it... " he murmured to himself. He looked back to the fight. Edd had done something strange with that robot, and he was still firing strange lightning from his hands, and he seemed to enjoy it. Kevin sighed. 

 "My suggestion is that we follow Ed and Eddy, they seem to know what they're doing." Nazz said and tugged Kevin's arm. 

 "That is what bothers me," Lee interrupted. "They seem to know so darn much about this... Imperium, it's spooky. I have a feeling our dear Eds know more than we want to think. And just look at Rolf!" 

 "So," Kevin said, throwing a glance at Rolf, "you're trying to suggest we follow Dork and Dorkky into that ship?" 

 "Exactly!" Lee said, crossing her arms over her now quite ample bosom. "Because if anyone can help us get this right, it's them." 

 Kevin considered this for about five seconds. "Let's go then!" 

 The six sprinted after Ed and Eddy and into the still functioning Thunderhawk named Nighthawk. When they saw the interior, their jaws dropped. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before. The Gothic architecture they'd seen on the outside seemed to have been implemented to the interior of the Thunderhawk. And the manifold sigils on various places spooked them as well. Johnny threw a look on one. He liked languages, and recognised this as something close to Latin, but still not. It seemed hard and... industrial in its construction. Johnny had no idea he was looking at and reading the language of the Adeptus Mechanicus: the Lingua Technis. Meanwhile, Kevin had seated himself on a chair behind Ed, who was sitting in the pilot's seat. The 'Hawk seemed constructed to house twenty or so of the Emperor's finest, i.e. the Space Marines. Ed studied the controls intently. 

 "Strange, I can't remember how to function this sucker," he mumbled. "I only remember how to steer." 

 "So," Eddy said and leaned against the controls, making sure not pressing anything by mistake, "you've no idea what these buttons do?" 

 "Exactly commander..." Ed replied absently. 

 "This is not good..." Eddy sighed. 

 "Wait a second," Marie interrupted. "I have an idea... " 

 On the outside, McKenzie temporarily froze the Necron Lord with a psychic move and Rolf destroyed the head in a flurry of sparks and super conducting material, as the Yarrickian sword passed through the robotic leader's head. McKenzie was short but amazed at the power of the sword in this youngster's hands. When Commissar General Rolf Yarrick had wielded it, it had been able to pass through Terminator armour with ease. These droids were obviously just as hard nuts as Berzerker Terminators, and the sword responded to every whim of the young man. McKenzie had his thoughts on that there was a speck of Yarrick in Rolf, but how could that be? 

 Something caught his attention. Snapping his head round to face behind the Necrons' that were attacking. The curious look on face changed to one of terror as he realised what it was that had snapped his attention. He saw the red eyes, the faintly green light from Hellblades and the glittering of brass armour and trims. He saw how the Juggernaught jumped out of the shadows, its rider a two metre tall and inhumanly muscled Bloodletter Knight. Following the Khornate deamon came lesser Bloodletter warriors. The deamons on foot were also about two metres tall and well muscled like their leader, but unlike their leader, they weren't as well armoured. Like it would matter, their skin was tough as iron anyway. Their heads had ebony black horns and their teeth were ivory white. In their clawed hands they held viciously shaped so-called Hellblades, jet-black in colour, but with a faint green glow around them. The swords trailed greenish smoke as well. The Juggernaught the Blood knight rode upon was a four-footed beast. Instead of a normal skin, it had an armoured hull, making it look more bulky than it already was. It also had a neck-shield covering its neck, were the collar was situated. The collar made the Juggernaught and its rider immune to psychic powers; McKenzie knew it. The Juggernaught was black, with brass trims and a lot of spikes. The Juggernaught looked over-all like it was mechanical, but McKenzie knew better. 

 The small deamonic warband attacked the Necrons with a ferocity that McKenzie hadn't thought was physically possible. The Juggernaught opened its maw and closed it around the leg of a Necron warrior with a sickening crunch. The leg didn't come off and the Juggernaught started to shake its head to loosen the Necron from its leg. Instead of panicking, like any mortal would've, the Necron silently raised its Gauss gun and fired of a shot into the eye of the Juggernaught. This didn't stop the Juggernaught in any way; it only left an ugly hole where one of its eyes had been. Now, the Juggernaught raised one of its massive frontal limbs and crushed the Necron's head underneath its enormous weight. McKenzie didn't know what to do. He had fought deamons before, yes, but these deamons seemed in some way so much more powerful than any deamons he'd ever encountered, like the Dark Gods had adapted towards this new threat. He looked around. Charleston was gone! Where was the big oaf when one needed his strength? McGranth was busy crashing through Necrons, but he soon noticed the new threat he too. He quickly put himself beside Rolf, who'd already engaged a deamon. The young man in the commissar's coat was howling in fury as he attacked the deamon, Rolf Yarrick's memories searing through his mind. McKenzie, so gripped by his thoughts, was knocked to the ground by a deamon that had gotten close to him and now it raised its Hellblade, ready to pierce it through McKenzie's heart... 

 In the Thunderhawk, the Kankers were busy pressing every button they could. That had been Marie's idea, at least. Ed didn't like it; Thunderhawks could be a bit temperamental, he knew so. May keyed one and a hatch opened above Kevin. Ed noticed. 

 "You'd better get out of the chair, Kevin." Ed said with a worried look on his face. 

 "Oh yeah, what do you know about that, dork!" Kevin snapped. The chair was quite comfortable, and he'd grown fond to it. 

 Lee touched another button. This button sends the chair behind the pilot's high into the air with a roar of its rocket engines. 

 Ed lay on the floor, over Kevin. He'd thrown the other boy out of the chair nanoseconds before the chair flew up and out of the 'Hawk. 

 "That's why... " Ed panted forth and rolled off Kevin. 

 The flying seat didn't go unnoticed on the outside. The Imperial servants ignored it, but the Necrons and deamons didn't. This gave McKenzie a chance to boil the brain of the deamon above him and hurtle it back to the Warp, where it belonged. Edd had ducked for cover behind the Thunderhawk when he saw the deamons arrive and thus didn't technically take part anymore in the skirmish. McGranth plunged his power axe through the heads of the remaining Necrons, incinerating their controller chips with the distortion-field around his weapon. Rolf took the change and plunged at the Blood Knight and sent his silver gleaming sword, which now was largely covered in oil and black deamon blood, through the black heart of the Knight. The thing screamed and retched as the Deamonslayer sword passed through it. Rolf jerked it out and jumped backwards. The Juggernaught got temporarily confused as its master twitched and died upon it. Swinging his sword in a graceful arch, Rolf decapitated the huge deamonic beast. The Juggernaught spasmed and collapsed in a heap, deamon blood spurting from its severed neck and steam oozing out from within its hull. Rolf turned to the other deamons, the warriors and butchers of Khorne, the Bloodletters. In his eyes was the look of hate, in its most pure and raw form. The deamons saw the look. They also saw what the young human was wielding and what it had done to their leader. They looked back at the young man, fear colliding with feelings for revenge and to fulfil their role in Khorne's army; to take skulls and spill blood to His honour. 

 The deamons settled their dilemma and stormed towards Rolf, howling and baying. Rolf braced himself for the inevitable, but it never came. McKenzie was suddenly at his side and so was McGranth. The two Marines attacked the deamons with a grim determination in their faces, a determination that, Rolf realised, was the look of a true Space Marine, doing his duty. 

 "What in the name of the Emperor of Mankind are you up to?" Charleston asked the youngsters sourly as he entered the Thunderhawk. 

 "Nothing!" was Eddy's snapping answer. "Well, at least until Marie here came up with the brilliant idea... " 

 "Yeah, just make me the scapegoat!" Marie cut off Eddy. 

 "Doesn't matter who did it." Charleston said, calming down. With a flick of a switch, he closed the hatch above where the seat had been. He pressed another button and a console opened in one of the walls. "I assume you were looking for this." 

 Charleston gestured towards the console. In there lay lasguns, many lasguns. Ed noted them to be of the standard variant but... 

 "Why do they have reinforced barrels?" Ed asked as he picked one up and studied it. He picked up a power-clip and slammed it home. He turned a switch on it and heard the pleasant sound of a laser weapon charging up. 

 "They're hotshots; lasguns that fire a more powerful round, but... it has the downside that it puts stress on the barrel. Therefore the reinforced barrels." Charleston replied. He picked out a bunch of lasguns and loaded them and handed them out to the other kids. "Let's help your friends!" 

 As Edd crawled into the Thunderhawk, he got a lasgun pressed into his hands and was forced out, into the battle again. 

 McGranth shoved off a Bloodletter from himself. The thing had tried to bite him. He prepared to meet it with his power axe as a red beam of plasma stabbed into it. The deamon exploded and covered McGranth in filth. He was going to need a bath after this. He turned his head and saw Charleston storming towards the deamons, the nine other kids in tow, lasguns spurting. The distinctive crack-crack from the lasguns was apparent, even though the air was full of inhuman screams. McGranth raised his storm bolter and aimed it towards the clique of deamons, yelling to Rolf to get out of the way. The young man nimbly somersaulted out of line of fire and McGranth pulled the trigger. The storm bolter kicked in his hand for a couple of seconds, until the dull clack came to indicate the sickle-pattern clip was empty. By then, all the deamons were dead. 

 "Nice job guys!" McGranth said and wiped deamon pus from his brow. He shot Nazz and the Kankers a look. "And girls, of course!" he added with a sheepish smile. 

 "Let's get the frekk out of here." McKenzie said curtly. McGranth startled at this. He wasn't used to the fact that McKenzie used that sort of language. But sometime has to be the first, he thought. The thirteen boys and girls moved towards the Nighthawk. 

 As they got in, Charleston seated himself in the pilot's seat and flicked several switches. He adjusted a bit in the seat, and then turned, punched off most of the backrest of the seat, and settled again. The rest had been in the way for his jump pack. The others buckled in on the places that were meant for passengers, McKenzie helping them with the buckles. McGranth didn't sit down like the others. He remained standing. McKenzie put back the lasguns and then settled down in the seat meant for the Navigator. 

 "Know what Edward?" Charleston said with a smirk to McKenzie. 

 "This Thunderhawk has a Warp drive? I know." McKenzie replied after both reading Charleston's thoughts and seeing the new panel. 

 "It's no fun playing guessing games with you... " Charleston replied sourly and turned back to his controls. 

 "I hate them, Ed, they're too easy." McKenzie replied absently as he strapped himself in. 

 Charleston pulled the control stick towards him and the Thunderhawk rose. It hovered in the air for a while, and then the landing gears retracted into its hull. He keyed a couple of buttons and sent a prayer to the God-Emperor that the automatics of Hades Hive still worked. His authorisation code was received by a database somewhere in the hive, a new signal was sent down to their level and the star port doors opened before them. Charleston pressed the thrusters to maximum and the Nighthawk sped out of Hades Hive. The kids looked out of the portholes beside them and saw what Armageddon was. Sand, sand, sand and even more sand. Kevin reeled backwards as he saw something huge roll under the sand dunes. McGranth had seen what Kevin had seen over his shoulder. 

 "Sand cobra," McGranth said. "Big carnivorous snakes. Can swallow a man whole. Be glad we're not down there." 

 Kevin just swallowed. They went higher and higher up into the air. They passed a greenish-black river. The problem with the colour was that it looked like the green was snot and the black oil. 

 "Euminide River." McGranth said explaining to Kevin. He had no idea why he did this. The child awoke such bad memories to him. The Nighthawk passed through the sulphur yellow clouds of Armageddon and the sight of the ground of Armageddon was forever lost to Kevin. He felt the pull as Charleston witched the propulsion system from atmospheric to interstellar. He also wondered why McGranth didn't start floating. He asked why. 

 "Electromagnetic boots." McGranth said and showed Kevin one of his boots. There were ridges in it, like any ordinary boot, but nothing that was strange overall with, except for the fact that they were made out of adamantium. McGranth put down his foot again, and as if to demonstrate, pulled out his power axe and let go of it. It drifted in the air. McGranth took it again and fastened it at his belt. He'd made his point. 

 At the front, McKenzie was discussing with Charleston. 

 "What do mean 'low on fuel'?" McKenzie asked, leaning as much forward as the seatbelt would allow. 

 "You know perfectly well what I mean," Charleston replied. "I'll have to refuel if we're going to make any longer trips. Now, where are we going?" 

 McKenzie considered this for a while. "Ichar... our home. There the kids can get armour." 

 "I know what you're thinking, but what about the girls... I mean, there weren't any female Space Marines as you know, and our armour..." 

 "I know what you mean commander." McKenzie replied softly. "It's just... I long for home." 

 "So do I." Charleston replied. 

 "Good." McKenzie said and patted his friend's shoulder. "Take us to the Warp-gate then, Commander Charleston." 

 "Roger that, Master Lexicanum. But, I'll need a Navigator." 

 "I'll take care of that... " McKenzie said and leaned backwards. He closed his eyes, and concentrated. He'd never done this before, and hoped it would work. With his third, mental eye, he saw the swirling energies and eddies of the Warp. The tricky part wasn't to go right and avoid being lost. The tricky part was to stave off deamons. 

 Charleston shut off the engines as they approached the Warp-gate. The colours hurt his eye and he hoped McKenzie knew what he was doing. Charleston felt the push as the Nighthawk was sucked into the Warp. He put on the engines again, but just to such speed that he could navigate. 

 Four hours later, the Nighthawk came out of the Warp outside the Hive-world Ichar. Charleston took over the navigation again and aimed it towards the northern parts of Ichar. As the retros of the Nighthawk flashed and broke their downfall, he felt a sudden rush of joy over him. He was home! 

^^ To Be Continued! ^^


	3. The Beginning of the ED

The Beginning of the ED

 "So glorious we'll fly 

  Like the Eagle in the sky 

  And I know it's gonna be 

  Victory!" 

   -- The bridge of Gamma Ray's Solid 

 Ichar, first and grandest of all Hive planets and once home to the mighty Space Marine Legion carrying the name Angelicus Mortis, or Death's Angels, seemed calm for being what it was. The reason was simple; there were nearly no humans on it. The Fortress Monastery of the Death Angels had been its reason for existence. Ichar was, along with Callidus and Secondus, the only habitable planets in the Secondus system, Secondus being a huge moon to a gas-planet. Callidus was the one closest to the sun of it; the star Betelgeuse. Due to the numerous interstellar Warp-passages surrounding Betelgeuse, it appears to our scientists that Betelgeuse is only 500 light years away from us, when it's actually closer to 1,000 light years away. The Warp-passages also causes the colour to dull and make Betelgeuse seem like a swollen gas-giant. Out Sun looks the same to the Imperial citizens like Betelgeuse to us. For you non-astronomy fans: Betelgeuse lies in the lower part of Orion; get a stellar chart. Next came Ichar. Ichar was, as mentioned, a Hive world, but, unlike Armageddon, its reason for existence is almost solely the Space Marine Legion stationed there. Next in rank come the huge amounts of factories built by the Cult Mechanicus. This makes the Death Angels one of the most mechanised of all Space Marine Legions. But the Machine Shops also supply the nearby Callidussian Imperial Guard regiments with armour and weapons. 

 The Fortress Monastery of the Death Angels, or the Adeptus Astartes Legio Angelicus Mortes, to give it its full name, was situated at the north pole more or less of the planet. Surrounded by chilly oceans, it is impossible to make one's way to the Monastery by other means than flight. The Monastery is a masterpiece of the Gothic architecture, having achieved what the Gothic architects wanted to achieve with Notre Dame but failed. The main reason that the Imperials made it and not the medieval French is that the Imperials had access to things such as rockrete and huge building machines. But despite this, the Monastery locks like it's been carved from the rock of the mountainous island it rests upon. There are no shores; kilometre high walls of rock make it impossible to reach it from the sea, though there are numerous caves underneath the mountain. 

 In a way, the Monastery looks a bit like a Hive, but much smaller. Still, it housed ten full companies of the Emperor's finest, which are a few thousand warriors in the Imperial service. Rarely, more than a few companies were out on duty at the same time. At least once, nowadays there are barely any Space Marines left, and most have resorted to the Dark and Corruptive Forces. The Monastery had training grounds, rifle ranges, an armoury, a library, an Apothecarion and landing fields, and it was on one of these landing fields that we find our motley collection of heroes: 

 "It's no use," Charleston said with an indication towards the Nighthawk. "That one ain't going to fly any farther without any more fuel." 

 "Just great," Eddy sighed and sat down on a moulded old crate. "Now what do we do?" 

 "Guys," McKenzie calmed them down, "this is the Death Angel Monastery, and there will undoubtedly be fuel around here. This is a landing port for the Emperor's sake!" 

 "What do you mean 'Monastery'?" Ed asked confused. 

 "This is headquarters and home to the Death Angels. We lived here, trained here, slept here. And the key of the last sentence is that it's all in past tense... " McGranth said with an unhappy look upon his face. 

 McKenzie sighed as he looked at his friend. He knew McGranth felt bad and he knew why: Once, McGranth had commanded one of the most lethal and most feared of the Imperium's forces; a full Legion of Space Marines. He didn't want to accept the fact that most Space Marines now were gone. A Space Marine is always male, always born in a certain family and always leads a life of strict celibacy. No kids. That's what kept the families going; as the one who became Space Marine trod down his path, the others of it could live happily knowing their relative were conducting his duty to the Emperor, and thus their names would also be listed. McKenzie didn't understand it so well, as he weren't from a true Space Marine family. He was a mutant, just like Rolf Yarrick was a half-breed. The Inquisition had spared them from absolution on different bases; McKenzie due to that he was Space Marine and Yarrick because of his faith and zeal. 

 McGranth was confounded over the fact that he was now in charge of his two friends and colleagues, three Outlaws, one young man sharing body with the soul of his blood-brother: Commissar General Rolf Yarrick and a bunch of novices. He didn't like it at all. Besides, he wasn't truly sure that he outranked the Commissar General. McGranth sighed. 

 "Come, let's get inside. No use standing here in the cold." McGranth said and led the way. His armour held him warm, but he wasn't sure for the kids. That Nazz girl seemed a little blue in the shade of her lips. McGranth didn't blame her. It was a lousy spot for a Monastery, when one thought about it. Why couldn't it be situated at the equator, on an island there? Nope, it had to be the North Pole... Sigh. 

 McGranth led them through the gates that led into the huge Monastery. When they got inside, the cul-de-sac kids, including the Eds (bar Rolf) gaped at the scene striking them. They were walking on what looked like a road, much like the rail-lined steel gantries of Hades Hive, but with the major difference these were made out of solid rockrete. The gantry was at least five or six metres wide, with stairways placed a little here and there, leading to a lower or higher level. There were doors leading to other rooms or halls, each door intricately carved to either represent an Imperial Saint, the double-headed Eagle of the Emperor or the very Death Angel Legion mark. In the middle there was a gaping hole, an abyss several hundred metres deep. Kevin walked close to the edge, grabbed hold of the railing and looked down. He quickly pulled back his head, vertigo gripping his brain. He joined the others. McGranth led them down many a flight of stairs. Kevin had no idea of how many hours passed as he walked down with the others. He checked his wristwatch. What good did it do when he had no idea what local time it was and when they'd arrived? He took a hefty guess at two hours. He looked up again. The Kankers, Nazz, the Eds, Johnny and himself included, were all looking awe-struck a little now and then at their surroundings. The huge pillars and cataracts that held the place up seemed carved from the stone itself. The many gargoyles and thin-faced Saints looking down on them. Kevin read the name of one as he passed a statue: 

 "Saint Renaro Icharius," it read in Low Gothic, "Martyred at the claws of a Bloodthirster deamon, first Grand Commander of the Blood Angels Space Marine Legion." Blood Angel? Hadn't McKenzie said that they were members of the Death Angels? Then, what was with the Blood Angel Grand Commander? Icharius had been holding a mighty broadsword in his perfectly sculpted hands, angel's wings spreading out behind him. The next statue the group passed was of Saint Ardel Choison. He was also an angel winged warrior, but his face was hidden by a cowl and his body by robes, unlike Icharius' who'd been standing in a suit of archaic battle armour, his rippling muscles clearly visible. Choison's hands held a single edged power sword in them, but it was obviously not meant for twin-handed holding. Choison had been martyred at the hands of a Deamon Lord named Fostoriaxx and he'd been the first of the Dark Angel Grand Commanders. Two different Legions? This was confusing Kevin... McKenzie had a lot to explain, and Kevin wasn't sure he wanted to hear it all. 

 As they reached the lowest level, Kevin saw one last statue; the one depicting Grand Commander Dante. Dante was clad in a massive Terminator suit and at his hands were a pair of Lightning Claw gauntlets. On the back of each gauntlet a grenade launcher was mounted. Dante was no giant of a man, but he was burly none the less. Powerfully built with broad shoulders and big, strong muscles, he more than well made up for his lack of height, if you can call 1m85 for lack of stature that is... His face wasn't ugly either; a strong jaw but otherwise a look that would classify him as the next James Bond, Kevin thought. He saw Nazz throw an extra glance at the former Grand Commander (Dante) and felt a bit of anger inside of him. 

 Kevin looked at his company. The Marines, and Rolf strangely enough, were stern faced. They seemed embittered to be walking here. McGranth walked up to the statue of Dante and made a dignified bow at it. He then turned, looked at Charleston, who nodded, and the two strongest of the bunch pulled open the doors to the Main Hall, where an entire Legion of Space Marines could be at once. Being as empty as it was, it seemed horrible to be standing in it as the thirteen were when they walked into it. Like the rest of the entire Monastery, there were cobwebs all over the place. McKenzie shot the chandeliers a look and the huge, gilt constructions flickered into life. None of them took notice of the tiny creature watching them from the entrance to the hall. It was short, maybe just over 1m50, and had green skin, eyes with red iris, yellowed teeth and long elven ears. No hair on its scalp and ragged clothing adorned its body. The body looked a little like a simian's, with the exception it was made for upright walking and running. It dashed off, as fast as its short legs could carry it. 

 Inside the hall, Charleston ran a finger across a dusty chair. "I used to sit here," he simply proclaimed. "And that's where you used to sit, Eddie." Charleston meant McGranth and pointed towards McGranth's chair at the far end of the hall. There were ten great tables present in the hall, each representing a company of Space Marines. At the farthest end, one long table was situated, and it was meant for the Grand Commander's personal staff and the members of the Librarius, such as McKenzie. 

 McGranth looked around. It felt great to be treading this ground again... He felt it obliged that he said something, so he did: 

 "Charleston, take Ed and go look for fuel. There has to be some in the other ports. Fly if you have to." Charleston set off with Ed in tow. The whooshing sound of a jump pack proclaimed that Charleston had made a jump, probably with Ed in his arms. 

 "The others of you; try to find some food supplies that aren't rotten, anything edible. Personally I'm starving and I think you are too. And don't just stop at food supplies; anything that can be of use. Anything!" 

 The others started filing out, but McKenzie grabbed Kevin by the collar. He was going to receive his orders from McGranth last, and he wanted Kevin with him. McGranth turned to his Master Lexicanum and smiled. The psyker knew what he was going to get for orders, but stayed anyway. 

 "And you McKenzie, I give you the privileged task of going down to the Armoury and try to find some battle-suits that could be of use to us." 

 "Glad to be of use, my Grand Commander!" McKenzie said, saluted and dragged Kevin with him outside. As they got without earshot of McGranth, McKenzie told Kevin to follow him into the depths of the Monastery, down to the Armoury. 

 "Kevin, I want you to come with me, because there's something I want to show you." McKenzie said without slowing down as the twosome strode down the stairs. 

 "Yeah, sure." Kevin replied, unable to resist as he was more or less dragged along by McKenzie's force of will. 

 When they got down to the Armoury, McKenzie walked over to a data-terminal, removed a glove and placed his big hand unto a plate in the wall, beside the gate that lead into the Armoury. The plate glowed luminously green for a while, the machines hummed and cogs clicked as the huge gate prepared to open itself. Upon the gate the skull and cog sign of the Adeptus Mechanicus was inscribed. The cog behind the skull turned a few times, settled and the gate opened itself. The skull, set in silver, split itself in the middle as the gate swung open and revealed a huge hall behind it. At first, Kevin saw naught, but after a few seconds, the old electronics awoke and the Armoury hall was flooded in light. It is impossible to even begin describe what Kevin saw, but the roof arched itself in its gothic structure more than a hundred metres above him. There were no windows, so it had to be under ground level. In the roof, huge tanks were held in place by stainless steel/adamantium chains. There were Rhinoceros and Razorback transports, the powerful Predator MBTs and Whirlwind Artillery tanks and of course the most dreaded of all Imperial Tanks; the 60 tonnes monstrosities called Land Raiders and a few variants on the original armament. The original armament of a Land Raider is four lascannons and two heavy bolters. Imagine this stuff augmented, for, say, anti-personnel? Kevin couldn't believe his eyes. He felt a chill go through his veins as he thought a camera on one of the elder looking 'Raiders followed their walk. McKenzie felt his unease. 

 "Don't be alarmed," he said calmly. "It's just Old Julius checking who's entering." McKenzie turned and looked up at the battered old tank, and raised a hand and waved. The camera zoomed with its focusing rings, remained silent for a moment, and then swung away from McKenzie and Kevin, obviously not interested any more. 

 "You trying to tell me that thing has a soul?" Kevin whimpered. 

 "Yes." McKenzie said, thought a while and then added, "A machine soul." 

 Kevin gave a shrug and looked up into the roof again. The tanks weren't alone. Amongst them hung seriously battered Land Speeder hovercrafts. They must've been here for repair when the final hour came. They also came in different variants. Kevin took his eyes down from the roof and looked around himself. Lined up at their sides as they'd entered, a small column of five metre tall war-walkers had been standing. They had been bulky constructions, not looking all too agile. McKenzie turned and looked at Kevin as the youth looked back at the mobile suits at the entrance. 

 "Dreadnought class armoured walkers." McKenzie explained. "Tombs for the Space Marine heroes crippled beyond medical care. If a Marine officer is so seriously injured that he can no longer lend his experience to his brothers in the fields in a normal suit of armour, he may chose to be incarcerated in a sarcophagus, which can be hooked up into a Dreadnought hull. He can thus fight for his Legion for aeons more." After this McKenzie sighed. He remembered who they'd used every available sarcophagus and Dreadnought at the Siege of the Emperor's Palace, and still they'd had suits left over. They kept on walking. 

 Next they passed rows upon rows of empty Space Marine power armour suits. Each suit stood upright, plugged into the wall behind it, its helmet resting at its feet and the backpack hanging from a contraption on the wall beside it. Each and every suit had the colours that McKenzie had on his armour and the Death Angel insignia upon the left shoulder pad. The shoulder pads had black trims, just like McKenzie's. There were of course personal variations for each suit, but they were seldom more than a different rank or company marking. Some helmets had beak like face masks, others had a more gas mask like look to them. Some suits had kneepads, some didn't. They also passed some suits painted white and some in a darker red colour. McKenzie said they belonged to Apothecaries and Tech Marines. They passed a row of black painted suits, and McKenzie simply said they were to be given to Chaplains in the Death Angel Legion. After another row of Death Angel red suits, they came to a dozen or so suits painted blue. Each and every blue suit had intricately carved insignia on their legs or arms. McKenzie explained them to belong to the Librarians, the Space Marine psyker caste. Kevin wondered why McKenzie then didn't wear the blue armour of his caste? 

 "Because of the same reason Rolf Yarrick refused to use the black and red trimmed uniform of the Commissariat; it would give me away in battle. I like to have surprise on my side." was McKenzie reply on this question. 

 The twosome left the Librarians' suits behind them and got to the last of the suits in the rows; one lone Terminator suit. It was equipped with a single Lightning Claw. McKenzie remembered he'd taken the other in replacement for the one Eddy had lost. He'd mounted an ordinary arm instead. Cursing himself for this, McKenzie turned to the computer terminal before him. There was a screen covering most of the wall. Kevin looked upon it with interest. It looked like one of those new plasma TVs. 

 McKenzie pulled out a cord with a socket in each end from somewhere, picked up a data-slate from the floor, dusted it off. He plugged in the cord in both the data-slate and the computer before him. He opened the data-slate and as he did so, the big screen flashed into life. Tapping in his security clearance, McKenzie tapped in some search-information as he talked to Kevin: "You might have noticed that battle-brother McGranth seems uncomfortable around you. I've brought you here to help you understand why this is so..." 

 Pressing the activation key for the search, McKenzie started a search through the Monastery's old data banks. At first, the twin-headed eagle symbol flashed up with a text reading. Search in Progress. A chime sounded from somewhere and the Inquisition's mark (=I=) was seen on the screen. On the logo, written in green letters, stood: Enter Access Code. If one had ones eyes with oneself, one could see the tiny note in the lower-left corner that read: "Attempts at hacking through this level is punishable with immediate termination". 

 McKenzie silently entered the code that he'd learned so many years ago. It had been childishly simple to break it, he'd remembered. He had done it as a young epistolary. Tapping the confirmation key, the screen flashed again and now the service record of Kevin Poole appeared. It was a long listing. Reports, DNA structure, fingerprints; everything a sane person would want to know and more. Kevin just stared at the photo of the young man that was obviously Kevin Poole. It was like looking into a mirror. He tore his eyes from the photo and looked at the information flashing by on the screen. Of what Kevin could make out, there were his days as a Space Marine Scout, through his steady stream of promotions, all the way to Poole being ranked Lieutenant Commander and placed in charge of the 8th Assault and Reserve Company. Kevin let a low whistle go from his lips. 

 "You must've been a hero... " He said very silently to the picture, so that McKenzie wouldn't hear. He didn't. 

 "Your counterpart; Kevin Poole." McKenzie said with a gesture towards the screen. "He was a great warrior in the Emperor's service in his day. Slew many of the vile aliens that attack us. Favoured by great Dante like a son, and to be the next Death Angel grand commander after Dante. Then, something happened to change all that." 

 McKenzie tapped lightly a button on the data-slate. The screen flickered a while, before it settled. What now rolled up before Kevin was the report that Dante had filed on Poole's attack on McGranth that day many years ago, how Dante had declared Poole and the entire of his Space Marine Company Outlaw from the Death Angels. But Dante's report stopped there. It said nothing of how Poole was to regain his title amongst the proudest of Imperial Warriors. Instead, it was McGranth who began filing reports. He told of the vile betrayal of the 8th outlawed company of the Death Angels on Armageddon, how they'd turned from the Emperor's guiding light on the very day that they should celebrate the Emperor's divinity: The Day of the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension. The report also told on how the once noble Marines had turned to Khorne, Chaos God of Blood and Slaughter and renamed themselves the Berzerkers. It also told how Kevin Poole, once Lieutenant Commander in the Legio Angelicus Mortis had become the Dark Lord of Blood; Kevlinn, King of Berzerkers. It also told the tale of his lightning raid against Iyanden, stealing their C'tan artefact; the mighty battle-axe that was to be known to man as the Axe of Khorne. 

 Kevin was torn from his awed thoughts by McKenzie's soft voice: "Kevin Poole betrayed us all. He became a monster; he killed countless people, just because he claimed it was the insane will of his daemon God: Khorne." McKenzie seemed to choke on the name of the Dark God. 

 He continued: "This huge catastrophe," McKenzie gestured around himself, meaning the entire Imperium. "He deserves the sole blame for it all. He caused it all, Kevin: his ego, his animosity and his sense that his honour had been dragged in the dirt. His ego because of the fact that he was to be the next leader, not McGranth, his sense of honour because that he had been foiled of his promised position of power and his animosity towards McGranth because of this. Although, he always had that animosity towards McGranth, ever since we started out as Scouts." McKenzie lowered his eyes towards the floor. "It wasn't made better that McGranth became chosen to Terminator service early in his service. Poole never would've succeeded in doing what Eddie did. Eddie became a veteran sergeant in his scout training, Poole not until he was a full-fledged Marine with many years under his belt." The tall, lean Marine sighed heavily. An uneasy silence settled down as Kevin kept reading parts of the information rolled up before him. 

 "I don't get it," Kevin said, pulling his eyes from the screen to look at McKenzie. "What does all this have to do with me?" 

 McKenzie looked up sharp and fixed Kevin with a deep stare of his dark eyes. "Kevin, I've seen the way you treat Eddy and his two friends. Your animosity towards him is very similar to the animosity that Kevin Poole had against McGranth." 

 Kevin wasn't staggered at all at this. McKenzie was impressed. Any other human would've backed away form his stare, but this young man looked back. There was true grit inside of him. Maybe he wasn't as Kevlinn after all? 

 "Oh yeah," Kevin said and shrugged, looking round at random stuff in the armoury, "I admit I may seem harsh on them sometimes, and they do get on my nerves, but I don't hate them." 

 "So, you can control your attitude towards them?" McKenzie asked, looking thoughtful. 

 "Yeah, I can." Kevin replied smartly, prepared to show this super-human he could do whatever he was asked to do. 

 McKenzie smiled softly. "I'm surprised Kevin, I didn't expect you to be so reasonable." 

 "Well... " Kevin said, scratching his chin, "What we're doing now is important. I guess there are bigger things right now, then how I feel towards the do... I mean the Eds. I guess I can lighten up a bit, for something this big." 

 "Thank you Kevin," McKenzie said, placing his hand Kevin's shoulder and smiling his gap-toothed smile towards the youth. "Now, how about we tell the others about the fact that the Armoury is intact?" 

 "Just a minute," Kevin said, holding up a finger as to stop McKenzie. "I wonder; what role did the other of my friends play? I mean, i know what role I played; traitor, and the Eds are you, but what about Rolf, Nazz, the Kankers and Johnny?" 

 "Well, Rolf you know was a famous commissar general. One of the greatest ever, in fact: a warrior without match. Except in Kevlinn. He fought the Dark Lord with the sole ambition to destroy him. The reason, as I see your questioning look, is that Lord Kevlinn killed all Yarricks, except Rolf Yarrick, and he swore in blood that he wouldn't rest until Kevlinn was laid to rest. The tool used to draw the blood for the oath was no other than the Yarrickian sword. You know, the silver blade that Rolf now has?" 

 "Yeah, seen it many times, in its sheath. But what about the others?" 

 "It is as follows: Nazz counter part was in fact an Imperial Saint: Canoness Nazerine Almita of the Order of the Bloodied Rose. She was a great warrior as well as a beautiful woman. Age didn't foul her appearance. She didn't die the martyr's death, though. She died in her sleep, of age, which I find very nice in such a war-ravaged life as she lived. Her armour is held forever pure in a stasis field, her cloak being a thing that it said that not even power swords could cut through. Before the Siege of the Emperor's Palace, I had the armour moved here, because the safest place in the Imperium is the Armoury of a Space Marine Fortress Monastery, with the exception of the Apothecarion, where our gene-seed is held. Any way, Canoness Almita was a great tactician and solely devoted to the Emperor. It was rumoured she'd met the Dark Lord once, but hopefully it is only hearsay. 

 The Kankers undoubtedly are counter parted by the Canoness sisters Kanker, that were taken by the Hive Fleet named Canker by the Magos Biologis. They later altered the spelling to represent the once-human sisters new status as Hive Queens. The Omega Squadron Outlaws, your Eds, defeated them and they became devout sisters again, but forever kept under the Inquisition's never-flinching gaze. Before they were returned to the True Path though, they spread much carnage and mayhem with their minions. I prayed to the Emperor every morning after they'd been turned back that my brother would do the same... " 

 This last sentence McKenzie spoke like a whisper. He didn't want to be entangled in a long and sentimental story of his life and his brother: George McKenzie, or Hive Magus Grimjaw as he'd called himself. He was dead now, Grimjaw, and McKenzie was both happy and sad over this at the same time. He pulled himself together and started again. 

 "Now, Johnny, he's a special case. His counterpart wasn't even human. Johnny's counterpart was a powerful Eldar Farseer entitled Johnnaiskei I Laryetille, Guardian of the Mon-Keigh, the Humans. He watched us humans for hundreds of years, until just after the Outlaws left. We'll never know why the Craftworld named Vurupano in their tongue, or roughly Plankian in Gothic. I know, it sounds weird; therefore I prefer the Eldar word for it. Anyway, Johnnaiskei was an extremely powerful psyker, outmatching me with ease. He was capable of crushing Deamons to pulp with one word, awake a thunderstorm that could wipe out cities with a single hand movement. Oh, I envied him, I did. But we were good friends the time I knew him. He let me in on many Eldar secrets." McKenzie made a pause and sighed. "What I heard, he died of age fifty years before the Imperium fell to the claws of Chaos. He must've been very old, as Eldar can turn millennia old. Dear God-Emperor, there are times when I feel that we are closer to the Eldar than we might think... 

 "So, Kevin, there you have it; the roles the others played in this great game of chess. A game that we Imperial humans already have been more or less checked in." 

 "I see." Kevin replied, reflecting on what McKenzie had said. "Alright, I think I get this now. I doubted you before, but seeing how things are, black on white, I can't deny what we're facing..." 

 "Very good Kevin," McKenzie beamed. "Oh, and do me a favour." 

 "What's that?" 

 "Don't ever let your anger control your actions, it can lead you down a very dark path." 

 "I won't McKenzie, I won't" Kevin smiled and ripped of a salute. 

 McKenzie chuckled at this. "Good. Now, what do you say about that we find the others and tell them that the Armoury has been untouched and that they can get new gear here?" 

 "No sweat, but, what if, any one, you know... " Kevin's voice trailed off. 

 "Any one would come in here? Please Kevin, there hasn't been anyone here for many hundreds of years. Besides, Old Julius and the others can keep an eye on things as we're gone, can't they?" 

 "Guess so... " Kevin said as the two walked out to join the others. The living machines scared the living daylights out of him. Machine soul? It was getting scary. The Imperial humans had obviously trod down a track of evolution the Terrans hadn't. 

Up in the Main hall, the others had managed to find some food that wasn't mould. Charleston had found most of it, and truly took his fair share of it. They dusted off most of the dust from a table and sat down by it and dined. It wasn't much of an affair. After they'd finished, McKenzie told them that the Armoury had been untouched. So the thirteen went down to the Armoury. The Land Raider tank Old Julius got a bit confused over seeing two each of the Eds, but McKenzie told him in some way that he should not worry. He led them down the lines of armour, picked out suits he thought seemed good, and showed them to the Eds and Kevin. The others were amazed there were no cobwebs in the armoury, and when Ed asked why it was so, McKenzie replied with a smile. 

 "This place has been hermetically sealed for nearly four hundred years. No one would get in here!" McKenzie said as strolled away to get some weaponry. 

 The Eds slipped into the battle suits given unto them. Ed donned the armour of a member of the 8th Assault and reserve Company, getting helped by Charleston to paint on the rank stripes of a Lieutenant Commander. After helping Ed, Charleston added a stripe to his rank. Ed looked over his armour: On his chest, a double-headed golden eagle was spread. On his left shoulder pad was the black emblem of the Death Angels: a blood drop between a pair of angel's wings. On his right shoulder pad was the grey skull of the 8th Assault Company. He settled back in the alcove the suit of power armour had stood in and fitted the jump pack to the plug on his back. He felt the click and the rush of heat as the powered armour heated up. He needed no reactor to move, like the Terminator suits, but the jump pack, just like ordinary back packs, had the power needed to make the power armour truly powered. The belts keeping the jump pack surely in place shot out and looked themselves upon his chest. 

 Edd had gotten into the blue armour of an Epistolary Librarian. His chest was not adorned by and eagle like Ed's. Instead, he had what looked like a winged lightning bolt. His left shoulder pad carried the emblem of the Death Angels, set on a red background, and the right shoulder pad was intricately decorated with what looked like a book. The paper markers of the book looked like lightning bolts. The whole thing was carved form rockrete. Edd did as Ed had done; he settled back in the alcove that had belonged to the armour and felt how the backpack was put in place with a click. 

 Eddy had gotten dressed in the lone Terminator suit. He had his Death Angel emblem on the right shoulder pad and a black Imperial Eagle on his left. Like his old armour, he had no kneepads, unlike his two friends. He flexed the lone Lightning Claw on his left hand side. He had wanted to have two, but McKenzie had said something about spare parts. Still, he was capable of punching a hole through a tank. 

 "Man, it's good to be back into the armour again!" Eddy said and slammed his unarmed fist into the Lightning Claw's. 

 "I must admit," Edd said and turned in his armour and flexed his arms, "that even I am glad that I'm wearing it again." 

 McGranth and Charleston showed Kevin how to get into his gear. It took a little longer than with the somewhat experienced Eds. Kevin was tall, about 1m80, but of a more powerful build than Rolf. His shoulders were broad and his body muscly. He had begun working out a bit, but not too much. He knew it wasn't good when one was growing. His armour had the double-headed eagle symbol as well as Ed's, but as he backed into his armour's alcove, an ordinary backpack fitted into place. On his left hand was a mighty power fist. He flexed it. It felt like being able to rip asunder a world. Such power! He glanced himself over. No kneepads, a grey skull on his right shoulder. He belonged to the same company as Ed and Charleston then. 

 "Awesome... " Kevin whispered silently as he swung a few times with the power fist. 

 By now, McKenzie came back, and he had his hands full of different weaponry. He dropped them down on a nearby table and started sorting them out. To Ed, he handed a bolter and several magazines of ammunition as well as a new power sword. Ed hung the bolter over his shoulder in its strap and fastened the power sword with its sheath in a mag-lock in his belt. 

 To Edd, he gave a bluish-white Force Sword. As Edd touched it, the sword began glowing lightly, reacting to the touch of a psyker. McKenzie also handed him a sheath for the Force Sword and a holstered plasma pistol. Edd placed both at his belt with mag-locks. 

 To Eddy, McKenzie gave a single bolter. But the bolter had a grenade launcher fastened to it, underneath its ordinary barrel. McKenzie gave him several magazines of bolter ammo and a belt of grenades. Lastly, McKenzie turned to Kevin. 

 "So, Kevin, I see you've found your place amongst us. The armour of the captain of the 8th Assault Company fits you." 

 "Hey, you pointed it out to me... " Kevin said meekly. 

 "Never mind... " McKenzie knocked the correction aside easily. "You are now Captain of the 8th Company. I present you with a combibolter-flamer." McKenzie handed Kevin the bolt gun he'd been carrying. It looked like an ordinary bolter, just that underneath the barrel, just like Eddy's, it had another weapon. A flamethrower. McKenzie also gave Kevin several bolter magazines and a few extra petroleum flasks for the flamer. 

 "Every flask is good for about three or four shots, depending on how long you pull the trigger. You change weapon-mode there." McKenzie showed Kevin how to use the bolter-flamer. He also showed Eddy how to launch grenades with his weapon. 

 McKenzie then turned to Kevin again. "Nearly forgot; here." McKenzie handed a long silver dagger to Kevin. It glittered slightly as Kevin turned it in his hand. McKenzie touched a button on it for him. It started to give away a quiet whisper. 

 "That is a mono-molecular edged short sword. It is the kind that was used by the Space Marine scouts. It's quite capable of cutting through most stuff." McKenzie said simply and turned his back upon Kevin and turned to Rolf. 

 McKenzie pulled out a holstered bolt pistol out of nowhere it seemed and handed the weapon to Rolf. "Here you go, Rolf. I couldn't find any kind of lasgun, which I know you favour highly. I mean, that Yarrick favoured highly. So, I give you instead a bolt pistol of the finest craftsmanship. Take it!" 

 Rolf took the holstered weapon from the lean Marine and tied the leather strap of the holster around his waist. 

 The Kankers lost their precious little patience now. 

 "That's it!" Lee said. "What about us? When do we get snazzy stuff like you?" 

 The boys and men turned to the four girls. They all had looks of disbelief on their faces. McKenzie couldn't blame them. 

 "I... I'm afraid we really don't have any armour designed for the female form here, because, well... " McGranth was lost for words for just a second. "Because there never were any female Space Marines, 'cause the bio-implants don't react with female hormones! There, it's said!" 

 Marie looked at the Grand Commander. "So, you mean we won't get any armour then?" 

 "Sorta... " McGranth replied, feeling very uncomfortable. 

 "Wait a second, Eddie!" McKenzie exclaimed with joy. "I do think we have some Sisters armour here!" McKenzie gestured them to follow. "Come, I'll show you!"

 The four girls followed in tow with McKenzie, leaving the other boys alone. Charleston started to show them around a bit. McKenzie showed the girls to a section of the Armoury that was very off from the rest. He tapped in a code in a lock and a door hissed open in the wall before them. Striking on the lights, four suits of Sister's of Battle armour in alcoves became visible. Each suit was painted black with red trims. An emblem, which would've been known as the French Lily on Terra, was embedded on each of the suits lower left leg armour. These lilies were in silver. There was cloth on the suits, in the form of coverings for the upper arms and as loincloths. They were coloured white with red borders, and on the borders of the loincloths, an Imperial verse of Faith was embroidered with gold wire. McKenzie showed them each a suit, and as the girls got themselves into the suits, which were a bit easier to get into then the Eds', and also lighter, McKenzie went to fetch some weaponry. This effectively removed him from their presence as they got suited up. 

 When McKenzie came back, with a handful of weapons, all of them were in their armour. 

 "This stuff is heavy." Nazz said flatly as she shifted in her suit. A jump pack of the more ornate and lighter design was situated on her back. The Kankers wore the ordinary Sister back pack. Under Nazz's jump pack, a long cloak was fastened and it spread out behind her, only just not touching the floor. 

 "Get used to it," McKenzie said as he tried to get some reason to the weapons in his arms. "And believe me, you'll be better off wearing it, than not, there are dangerous times ahead." 

 With that, he strolled out of the small room and closed the door with an elbow as the girls got out of there. After that, they went back to the boys. As they got there, McKenzie handed out the weaponry to the girls. To Lee, he gave a bolt pistol, bolt clips and a long, thin, rapier-like power sword. Lee took them and hung them around her waist, the power sword resting in its sheath. 

 To Marie, McKenzie gave similar equipment, with the difference of that her power sword was shorter. She did the same with her weapons; she hung them around her waist. 

 To May, he gave a flamethrower, of a lighter construction, but still as deadly, and a bolt pistol with clips. He also gave her some flasks to the flamer, which were obviously much bigger than those that Kevin had gotten. 

 McKenzie turned to Nazz, got something longing in his eyes, and finally handed her weapons. It was one hefty bolter, the kind that Ed had gotten, with clips and a sheathed sword. When Nazz had hung the bolter over her shoulder in its strap, she pulled out the sword. She saw her own reflection in the finely polished steel. Or was it some sort of silver? She couldn't decide. McKenzie handed Nazz one final thing, and it was a tiny little necklace. It looked like a twin-headed, golden eagle, with a red gemstone set in the middle. In the gemstone, a tiny sliver of something was situated. 

 McKenzie explained: "That, is a Rosarius. It contains a sliver of the Emperor's own armour. As it protected him against Karzhan, it will protect you against the Necrons." 

 "Okay, if that sums your show-off up, McKenzie..." McGranth said, clapping his hands together. "I'm only going to say this once, these are tools, not toys, and you're not really trained on how to use them to the maximum. So don't use them, unless you really have to!" 

 May was fidgeting with something on her flamer. "Hey, what does this thing do?" She examined it a little closer, and pressed. 

 "Oh, that's a... " McKenzie began, but was cut short by a spurt of fire from the flamer in May's hands. Everyone dived to the floor as the flames licked their backs. 

 "...Flamer." McKenzie finished, looking up. May had accidentally pressed the button that cleared away unwanted dirt from the nozzle of a flamer. 

 "May," Lee said sourly "Stop fooling around!" 

 "Sorry." May replied sheepishly. 

 McKenzie just smiled. There was some strange humour to it all. Suddenly, he felt something tugging at him. He looked down at Johnny. 

 "Hey, what about me?" Johnny asked. 

 "I've got something special in mind for you, Johnny. Follow me." McKenzie replied with a grin. 

 As Johnny and McKenzie left the Armoury, the others followed. The thirteen left the huge chamber behind and McKenzie sealed it once again. The other walked to the main hall, but McKenzie took Johnny with him to his old workshop. It was a couple of rooms. One was devoid of furniture, just a strange icon painted onto the floor. The others, bar the one where McKenzie's bed was situated, were in a mess, to say the least. 

 "These used to be my quarters." McKenzie said as he made his way to his desk. "Amazing, everything seems untouched." He started going through some old pergaments. To sort the stuff out would take ages, so McKenzie decided just to find what he was looking for. 

 Johnny stood dumbstruck at the entrance. "Untouched?" he gasped. "It looks like a tornado hit this place. My room isn't even this bad." 

 McKenzie looked up with an apologizing smile on his lips. "Eh, heheh, that's not important right now... " He looked around the room. He took away strange looking mechanisms from stools and mouldy looking unnameables from other places. "Where did I put it? A thing that big... A ha!" 

 From underneath a big pile of rusty old steel things and dust, McKenzie drew out a large trunk. He blew most of the dust off, got the mandatory cough-attack and looked down on the finely carved symbols. Both human and alien symbols adorned the trunk. 

 "This was given to me by some very special friends of mine, a long time ago. And I like to give it to you now." McKenzie said as he opened the trunk and took away some silk covers. "I was given it to study, but you, could probably use it to its full power... " He muttered as he pulled out the first thing. It was a black and bone-white suit of Eldar so-called rune-armour. It hung together in one piece, each centimetre adorned by an alien rune of some kind. McKenzie put it cautiously down on the floor beside him. 

 "What is that?" Johnny asked astonished. He reached down and touched it lightly. He felt a sudden tingling feeling inside his body. To Johnny, and only unto him, Plank whispered his thoughts... 

 "It's Eldar rune-armour," McKenzie said flatly. "Try it on. Let's see if it fits." 

 And so they did. Johnny first got into the trousers, then the strange boots. He put on the armoured 'shirt' and slid into the chest plate. McKenzie offered him gloves, but Johnny simply put them in the belt. McKenzie also took out a black and bone-white robe from the chest. He helped Johnny put it on, took a step back, looked the youngster over, and smiled. "So alike... so alike... " McKenzie muttered to himself, so Johnny wouldn't hear. 

 "Well, what do you think?" McKenzie said to Johnny. 

 "Wow... " Johnny said silently. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen. It feels as if it weighs nothing at all... " 

 "Glad you like it, Johnny." McKenzie said and sat down on a stool after removing all things from it. "Now listen, there's something I need to ask you." 

 "What is it?" Johnny asked and sat down opposite to McKenzie. 

 "I don't know quite how to put this, so I'll just say it; do you believe in psychic abilities?" McKenzie asked clasping his hands in front of him. 

 "Psychic? You mean, like mind power?" Johnny asked astonished? 

 "Yes, Johnny, mind power," McKenzie replied, running a hand through his hair. He felt a bit unnerved. "You see; I am a psyker." 

 "Really?" Johnny took the fact with calmness. He didn't know the dangers a psyker put himself to by even breathing in the Imperium. 

 'Here goes.' McKenzie thought to himself as he gathered air for what was coming next. "Yes, Johnny, and I believe you also have psychic powers." 

 Johnny looked shocked. "What?" 

 "Yes, you heard me. Johnny, I've felt your power. I can feel it even as we speak. You're an enormous psychic potential." McKenzie refrained from saying that he was happy he found Johnny before his puberty had begun seriously. Fledgling psykers attracted deamons in spades. 

 Johnny moved a bit uneasy on his stool. "You're kidding, right?" 

 "No, Johnny, I'm quite serious." McKenzie replied, his voice not higher than a whisper, but it carried clearly through the air. The tone was gravely serious. "I think your psychic powers could become incredibly useful, and powerful, if you'd be trained properly. Therefore, I ask you of your permission to let me teach you to control these powers." 

 "Well, I don't know... " Johnny said, tracing his fingers over Plank. McKenzie held his breath; this was no good sign! Had the deamons taken him already? "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." 

 McKenzie exhaled. "Good, wonderful that you accepted. By the way, Johnny, to use an old cliché: There is no try, either you do, or you don't." Johnny chuckled, but there was a nervous tone to it. McKenzie got up and turned his back upon Johnny. "I'd like to give you a thing, see." 

 McKenzie took down a long, wooden box from a shelf. He put it cautiously down unto the floor, after clearing away some things, and opened it. Before McKenzie opened it, Johnny saw some strange runes upon it. He couldn't know, but the runes were Eldar and read: **Kuruni hyanda ta nallam ilsanienaite**. _(That means: Witch blade that cries silver tears.)_ McKenzie pulled out the sword resting in the case and held it up. It was a long, elegantly shaped and had runes on it as well. The runes meant Silver Tear Blade or, in Eldar: **Ilsa Niire Hyandar**. The parrying bar was of a smooth and fine design, far from the rugged and gothic-looking design of the Yarrickian sword's eagle. The witchblade, which will be referred to as **Niire** from now on, had a small gemstone just above the grip, set into the Wraithbone that made the parrying bar. McKenzie held it out before him. He looked at it for a moment, and then it started to glow slightly. He put it down tip first on the floor and let go of the grip. The sword remained upright! It didn't fall or anything. It remained still and upright. Johnny looked at the blade, astonished. If he had needed any further proof that this blade was manufactured by an alien race, he didn't any more. It had perfect balance, and that was just the beginning. McKenzie spoke. 

 "This, Johnny, is an Eldar Witchblade. It is used by Eldar Warlocks and Farseers, and to great efficiency. It works in a similar way to our force weapons, with the big exception that this weapon is made out of a material we humans can't copy, and that it has, as you see, perfect balance. Only one other human manufactured blade has perfect balance, and that is the sword that Rolf is carrying." 

 McKenzie paused to let this sink in. "Now Johnny, a long time ago, I had contact with an Eldar world. They were kind, in the strange way that Eldar are. You see, Eldar don't think as narrow-mindedly as we humans, they have broader visions. Sometimes so broad that they are misunderstood for deceit and evil by us humans." Silently, to himself so Johnny wouldn't hear, McKenzie added: "Like the famous commissar-general did... " 

 McKenzie turned to Johnny again. "Anyway, I got this from an Eldar Farseer of the Iyanden Craftworld. His name was Indyo e Pereldar: a mighty psyker indeed. Back then, just as now, I was a Master Lexicanum. That's my title Johnny; remember it. He gave the sword to me, as a gift. I'd helped his people with many hard-ships. They thought me trustworthy perhaps, or maybe they just foresaw this, I don't know. It just, that, now I want you to have it, because you'll have more use of it than me. I have my Force Sword. It's a dear companion of mine, and I wouldn't change it for anything. So I think you should have Niire." 

 With a slightly shaking hand, Johnny grabbed the sword after a moment of silence. He held the sword in his hand, turned it a few times. 

 "It doesn't weigh anything... " He mumbled. By now, McKenzie had picked out a sheath for the witchblade and was fastening it around Johnny's body, so he would carry it much like Rolf did. McKenzie noted the slight shimmering from Niire, a note that it was held in the hands of a psyker, though an untrained one. Johnny put the sword in its sheath as McKenzie had fastened it. 

 "Cool, this is great... " Johnny went silent for a while. At least he knew why he'd felt so odd lately. "Oh, McKenzie, can I ask you something?" 

 "What is it?" 

 "Hmm, do you think you could find some armour for Plank?" Johnny held up the board so that McKenzie could see. 

 "Uh..." McKenzie hesitated, searching for words. "I don't think we have anything that would fit him." The slim Marine added a smile as he finished. 

 "Oh, okay... " Johnny fell silent for a while as McKenzie picked away the chest and the box. "I'm gonna show the others my armour." Johnny said and stepped out of McKenzie's workshop and quarters. He ran off, towards the main hall. 

 "You do that Johnny." McKenzie said as he to stepped out and closed the door firmly. As he followed the sprinting youngster, McKenzie rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oy vey... " 

 The two soon joined the others. McKenzie wanted to start Johnny's training right away, just to make sure that he would be able to resist the temptations from deamons, which they probably would encounter. The training consisted of mind focus mostly, i.e. to be able to hold things in mid air, stop flying objects etc. The others watched with interest as McKenzie taught Johnny step by step how to tap into the Warp, use its power and, most importantly, control it. Johnny was a quick study, to McKenzie's relief. It was easy to make Johnny focus, to teach him to control the powerful Warp magics and to make him hold objects in mid-air. Johnny trained with a candlestick out of brass, which McKenzie thought was good enough. As Johnny learned to lift the candlestick, McKenzie picked it out of the air with his fist, gave it Johnny and told him to throw it at him. 

 "But, I'll hit you!" Johnny protested. 

 "Just throw the candlestick, Johnny!" McKenzie ordered and stood himself a bit away from Johnny. Johnny hefted the candlestick in his hand, for weight measure, before he threw it straight towards McKenzie. The candlestick slowed down and stopped a few inches from McKenzie's face. He picked it out of the air and told Johnny what to do. 

 "Everything is relative, including speed and mass. Imagine it to be a none moving feather, and you will be able to stop it Johnny." McKenzie said and thre the candlestick towards Johnny. The poor lad tried to imagine that the heavy thing was a light feather, almost succeeded and had to throw himself clear of a candlestick that moved slightly slower than before. McGranth caught it behind Johnny. The Grand Commander threw the candlestick back to McKenzie. 

 "Johnny, we'll go this over and over, until you get it right, see?" McKenzie said and threw it again. Five times later, Johnny could brake the speed of the candlestick enough so that he could pick it out of the air. As he took the candlestick, McKenzie walked over to him. 

 "Just one final thing," the Master Lexicanum said, "I want you to bend the arms of the candlestick, so that they point downwards. Alright?" 

 Johnny looked up at McKenzie. "I mean it. It's not so hard. Use your mind Johnny." McKenzie urged. 

 By now, Edd stepped up. "It's actually quite easy Johnny. Remember when we saw 'The Matrix'? To quote: 'There is no spoon'." Edd blinked towards Johnny. "You bend yourself, not the candlestick. Believe me, it's how it works." Johnny nodded his approval and focused on the candlestick. 

 "There is no spoon... " He mumbled under his breath. This made Edd smirk. And wouldn't you know it? A few moments later, the candlestick arms hung like rubber. McKenzie gave Johnny a hearty slap on the back, a slap that made Johnny drop the candlestick. The arms of it clanged against the stone floor, still in the bent position, as hard as ever. 

 A bit away from the others, Rolf was standing all alone, watching the fledgling psyker train. He was happy for Johnny's part, but one part of him despised what Johnny was; a psyker, a witch! He knew what part. It was the part that once had belonged to an Imperial Hero: Commissar-general Rolf Yarrick. The man had been a good friend of McKenzie, but he'd despised all other psykers. Hypocrisy, maybe, but he couldn't stop the feeling of chill inside him as he watched Johnny bend the candlestick arms. He didn't notice when Nazz walked up to him. 

 "What is Rolf?" she asked softly. 

 Rolf turned his face to look at her, his green eyes meeting her blue. "You wouldn't understand," he replied sadly. Nazz put her hand on his arm, leaning closer to him. 

 "You can tell me," she urged. Rolf got out of her grip. 

 "I said you wouldn't understand, and that is final." 

 "It's Johnny, right?" Nazz said, crossing her arms over her bosom and cocking her head, as she looked the tall and sinewy young man that Rolf was. 

 Rolf sighed. He might just as well tell her. "Yes, it is. I'm glad that he has a hidden talent. But, I am sickened over the fact that it had to be psychics." Seeing Nazz's quizzical look, he decided to explain. "I share a soul with another man, Nazz. And this man was trained to destroy untrained psykers and other mutants and humanity's enemies. It was his duty, his work. It turns my gut to see that Johnny might even outclass such a powerful psyker as McKenzie, and he's still at the tender age of 14!" 

 "Oh my." Nazz gasped lightly. "Why? Why do you despise psychics so, Rolf, they haven't you, have they?" 

 "Oh, they have. For a start, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for psychics, none of us would. Secondly, what do you think deamons are? They are nightmares given form, and they come from the place that psykers take their power from, the place known as the Warp. So psykers can easily be attacked by deamons, and deamons want to destroy everything mortal. Understand now, Nazz?" 

 Nazz nodded slowly. "I believe I understand... " With that, she left Rolf alone to join the others. They started to gather madrasses so they had something to sleep on. One by one, they all went to sleep. Not before Johnny had gone to bed and was fast asleep, did Rolf get out of the coat and go to sleep he to, but it was wretchedly he slept. 

 McKenzie awoke. He simply threw his eyes open, his mind scanning the surroundings. It was in the middle of the night. McKenzie threw an eye towards one of the many windows around him. The moon was in the first window. Just after midnight then. He got up and walked softly out of the main hall. He felt that someone was missing, but couldn't really pinpoint whom, yet. It was someone in deep contemplation though. He followed the trace of the mind, a non-psychic obviously, and found himself walking higher and higher in the circular construction that was the Death Angel Fortress Monastery. He came out on one of the fine marble balconies, one of the few still alive. The climbing-trees that hadn't been tended for had grown just as wildly as the Hadesian crystal oak. They had grown so much that one could sit on branches far out in the air, if one felt for it and weighed just beneath 60 kilos. McKenzie guessed one could reach the ground with one of those now. He'd used them for climbing when he'd been a neophyte, but often got punished for it. 

 Out on a stone-bench, Rolf was sitting all alone, resting his head in his hands, and looking at the stars in the far horizon. He seemed oblivious to McKenzie's presence. McKenzie walked forward, his armoured boots clanging melodiously and quietly towards the marble floor. 

 "I admit the stars of Ichar's night-sky are beautiful, but shouldn't you try to get some rest?" McKenzie said softly, his voice not more than a whisper, but still carrying clear. He was startled that Rolf didn't move at his sudden coming. The young man had removed the sword from his back, as well as the peaked cap, and let the cool night breeze blow through his blue hair, the camouflaged greatcoat buttoned up to his chin. It was a bit cold, McKenzie had to admit. Rolf just turned his eyes to McKenzie, and smiled as he spoke. 

 "Ah, McKenzie, come sit with me." McKenzie did as he was told. He couldn't really relax as Rolf had, because of his backpack, but he tried. 

 There were a few moments of silence. McKenzie now too felt the chilly breeze in his hair. Rolf looked around a few times before he turned to McKenzie again. There was sorrow in the lad's eyes. 

 "I am troubled, my friend." Rolf said as he leant forward once again, this time dropping his hands between his legs. 

 "How so?" McKenzie asked. 

 "Over the past few years," Rolf spoke softly, which actually unnerved McKenzie, "I have noticed a change in myself, not only the changes that come with puberty and growing up, but changes that disturb me a lot. 

 "You have said that Rolf Yarrick is gone from me now, except some of his memories. That's what you said a few years ago, but I believe there's more left of him than I want. I have found myself behaving and reacting like would've. Sometimes, I wake up early in the morning, convinced I am still on Callidus. And that's only the beginning. I have tried to remember the village I was born in and spent my early childhood in, but I can't. Even now, as I try hard, I can only remember the Callidussian village that Rolf Yarrick was raised and lived in until..." Rolf's voice trailed off. He started on a new track. "Anyway, I feel that I am losing myself, McKenzie. As time goes by, there is more the Imperial Hero Commissar Rolf Yarrick, and less of Rolf, me. 

 "I am afraid, McKenzie. So afraid... That I might lose myself altogether."

 McKenzie didn't reply immediately. He'd listened intently, and was trying to find an answer, that wouldn't scare the boy too much. 

 "You did absorb his spirit when the Spirit Ball malfunctioned and broke down. It took you, cause you were his doppelganger. There are many reasons as to why you change. One is that there is a struggle in you, and only one soul can inherit a body, and it seems Yarrick's is prevailing. The other reason I can think of is that Yarrick never was done with this world. He died with many things undone. He didn't want to rest. And now, he's been given a second chance in you, and has taken it. It's my mistake, perhaps. I should've let him die there on Callidus..." 

 McKenzie went silent and then spoke again. "The simplest solution is to give in Rolf, how little you like it. Let Yarrick take over, and when you die, so does his soul, with you. You'll never know, maybe you can become an officer in the Army, eh?" 

 "I don't know," Rolf replied, shifting uneasily. 

 "Either that, or you'll remain slightly schizo the rest of your life. I don't know really Rolf, I'll have to study this..." 

 McKenzie snapped his head up sharp. He'd heard something. 

 "What's wrong?" Rolf asked, genuinely confused. 

 "Quiet, there's something in the tree." McKenzie hissed. "Stay here." 

 Rolf watched McKenzie move. The psyker blended with the shadows in a way that shouldn't be possible with his bright red armour. Rolf concluded to himself that McKenzie simply had wrapped the shadows around himself. He barely saw him, and the movements were ginger and feline. Suddenly, it seemed, McKenzie had leapt at something in the tree before him. 

 Rolf heard a heart-piercing shriek and flew to his feet. McKenzie unravelled the shadows around himself, and walked towards Rolf, holding a creature by the collar of its shirt at arms length from him. It was small and wiry, around 1m60, with a disproportionally large head. It had elongated ear, black eyes and green skin; a Gretchin. The little Gretchin, or grot as they were called for short, Rolf suddenly remembered through Yarrick, was shouting something with its strident voice, something in Orkish that Rolf didn't understand at all. And it was probably best so, because whatever it was, it sounded very rude and very obscene. McKenzie put the Grot down and Rolf instinctively pulled his newfound friend, the bolt pistol. He hadn't that one away. The Grot understood this very obviously and remained very silent, and very still, until McKenzie had gone back to get McGranth and Charleston. McKenzie told Rolf to get to bed, and at least TRY to sleep. Rolf resisted a while, but McKenzie was adamant, and Rolf finally gave in to pure exhaustion. 

 As Rolf had left, the three Marines loomed over the poor Grot. The look on its face said that it wanted to be somewhere else, like another planet for example. But it was also halfway through being indignant at the same time as it wanted to run for its own miserable life. McGranth bent down, his armour whirring as he moved and got so close to the Grot's face so that he almost could brush the creature with his moustache. 

 "What do you want?" McGranth asked as threatening as a knife. 

 The Grot gathered himself together and took all his courage to him that he could. It wasn't much. He tried to stand upright, but it was impossible due to one part of him was scared white, or at least a pale hue of green. He opted for the mode, which would be described to us as 'South State Afro-American Slave'. 

 "Please surr, I not bovver anyun, I is jus' skout. Dere a report uv oomans in big bilding, dere be no humans on Eekar for long time now. So, I come ta see if it true." 

 "Where's your, whaddya call it, Waaagh? Is it near here?" McGranth asked. His voice had lost a tad of its threatening edge. 

 The Gretchin snorted. "I, Wizznag, is not membur of Waaagh anymore, I is membur of da Gretchin Revulutionaree Committee." 

 McKenzie looked ponderous at this. "Gretchin revolution. Sounds like Sebastian to me. He always had his ideas about Orks... " 

 Wizznag looked up at the tall, slim Marine. "I'se no idea 'oo dis Sebbastiun is, but I'se do know dat da founder uv da GRC wos named Mosgit, an' Mosgit claimed to 'ave served da Bale Eye, before 'e wos killed by da big demun." 

 Charleston looked puzzled. "Bale Eye. Where have I heard it before?" 

 "It was a nickname the Orks gave Sebastian after he lost his eyes and had that implant, remember?" McKenzie freshened Charleston up. "But, GRC, was Sebastian Yarrick behind that?" 

 "Ah, now I know wot you mean. Yarrik, why not youse say so? Yes sur, 'e helped us Grots create the GRC. We Grots wos tired uv bein' treatud like animals. So, we escape, unner Mosgit's lead, and we work togevva for Gretchin rights!" 

 "That still doesn't explain why you're here!" Charleston growled as his right hand traced down to his holstered plasma pistol. 

 "I wos brought as slave, sur," Wizznag whimpered. He knew what a plasma pistol could do. "Two Waaaghs come; Waaagh Nazdreg and Waaagh Ghazghkull, after da humies left, dey both claim wurld and fite over it." 

 "I thought you said there weren't any Waaaghs here." McGranth said, looking suspicious. 

 "Dere isn't sur, not anymore. Strange metul men come, Orks fite, but metul men fiit bevvar, losta Orks die. Den, dis huge metul man come, 'e must be boss uv metul men, calls his self Metallix. Anyways, he comes, want ta fite with warbosses Nazdreg an' Ghazghkull. Dey both fite very good, but metul boss fite bevver. 'E kills 'em, metul men den kill all Orks. Some uv us Grots escape, hide. The Gretchin Revulutionaree Committee come, find us. Dey says we free now." 

 Charleston had a dark look on his face. "Necrons... how dare they set foot on Ichar!" 

 McGranth, on the other hand, looked puzzled. "You said the humans left, Wizznag. Where did they go?" 

 "Dey run away sur, away from metul men. I hear some uv dem say, dat dey go to place called Call-ee-dus. Dey think dey'd be safe dere, some humans disagree, stay and fite. But metul men kill dem sur. Not all wos killed though, metul men take some alive, maybe make slaves uv 'em." 

 Wizznag looked up at McKenzie, who'd been quiet for a long while now. Something seemed to go up for him. 

 "Youse odd-boy, am I not rite, Bluddy boy?" Wizznag asked, having lost some of his innate politeness. He fumbled his pockets for something. 

 McKenzie looked down on the creature. "Yes, I'm a psyker, why are you wondering?" 

 The Grot finally found what he was looking for and pulled out a slightly dusty and rusty Imperial data-slate and handed it up to McKenzie. 

 "See, a long time ago, Mosgit got dis from da Bale Eye. Bale Eye wanted Mosgit to hand it to da tall, thin odd-boy wiv a tatoo over 'is eye. Dat's you, no? Now, Mosgit, never got to that, so he passed da slate on, and now it wos in me hand, so I'se wos jus' lucky ta meet you." Finishing that, Wizznag grinned. He'd been a good Grot, fulfilling his duty to the GRC's founder. 

 McKenzie had flipped open the old data-slate. The information was still readable, only a few letters missing. The battery wasn't low, it hadn't been opened by any curious grot or anything, it seemed. He read it through. He read it through again. It seemed to be the lyrics for a song. Charleston was suddenly at McKenzie's side, reading over his shoulder. 

 "Looks like the lyrics for Number of the Beast to me... " Charleston muttered. He'd heard McKenzie play that particular song many times. "Half of it is the same any way." 

 "We already have encountered genetical copies of ourselves Ed, so why not songs?" McKenzie said as he snapped the data-slate shut. "It's a great, big universe, and we're really puny." 

 McGranth looked down on Wizznag. "You, get out of here, and tell this Gretchin Revolutionary Committee of your, that this place is off limits. In clear text: Don't ever come here again. Other ways, I'll blow your green arse into the next world myself, capisco?" 

 "Yes sur, I tell 'em!" Wizznag replied, saluted clumsily and jumped up into the tree by the balcony. You could hear his shuffling as he made his way back down. There was a chattering far down, indicating that he hadn't been alone and the sound of running feet. Then there was silence. 

 McKenzie broke it. "So, they were going to Callidus. It makes sense. The Necrons must've started their attack on the fringe to the north, thus forcing people to flee further south into the Imperium, herding them together like sheep." McKenzie made a short pause. "Secondus is where we should go next..." 

 "Why not Callidus?" McGranth asked. 

 "I have this itch..." 

 "I don't know, McKenzie..." Charleston said and scratched his rugged chin. "I and the lieutenant commander didn't find too much fuel. So, I'm not sure we have enough to make it too Secondus... unless we want an ungraceful landing." 

 "We'll have to try, Commander." McGranth said and patted his big friend on his shoulder. After that, he yawned. "Urgh! Let's go back to bed." 

 The next day, they all made ready early to leave. McGranth explained the situation to them. After this, he sent Charleston to herd them back to the Night Hawk and strap them in, while McKenzie and McGranth went through most of the Monastery. They locked every single door they could find. McKenzie even flooded the underground tunnels, which actually were home to many Orks who still lived, but no one would notice their passing. As that was done, McKenzie and McGranth bid one last farewell to the place that once had been their home and went up the many stairs to join the others in the Night Hawk. 

 The Night Hawk lifted from the platform and left Ichar's surface behind it. As it was a quite long way to Secondus, even with the Imperium's superior technology, it took several hours for the trip to pass. This trip would with our simple technology taken a year, but none-the-less it became boring for the thirteen Imperial Warriors. Each and every one tried to find a way to distract themselves. McKenzie toyed with an Imperial Galaxy chart, Kevin counted stars, Rolf tried to suppress Yarrick's memories as they became too unpleasant and the Kankers played some guessing game. Charleston was preoccupied with guiding the Night Hawk. It travelled at a speed of nearly 175 000 kph, and thrusters blazing. As they approached Secondus, Charleston struck the retros. Too steep dive and they'd be incinerated. The passing through the atmosphere was harmless, due to Charleston's skill, but as he turned on the inter-atmospheric drive, a lamp started to blink on the control panel and a buzzing sound was heard. 

 The buzzing sound woke Eddy, who'd been dozing off. "Now what?" he asked curtly. 

 "We're low on fuel," Charleston replied incredibly calmly. "I'll be able to land us, now we're through the atmosphere, but we have no brakes whatsoever, so it's going to be a bumpy landing!" 

 McGranth planted his feet firmly on the deck plate. "Brace yourselves!" 

 Charleston threw a glance out the vision slit. He was shocked to see that it was engulfed with flames. He'd forgotten a crucial detail: Secondus atmosphere was thicker than Ichar's, due to the fact it was closer to the star Betelgeuse. As they hit the upper layers of the inner biosphere, they cold air superheated around them, causing 'dents' in the air. The Night Hawk skipped and rocked violently, so violently Charleston was thrown out of his chair. He soon got back into it though, throwing a glance backwards, seeing that everyone was bouncing around, bar himself, McGranth and Eddy, the other two due to the weight of their armoured suits. 

 Kevin smacked his back into the roof and landed on the floor with a thud. As he regained his breath he cursed and spat at Charleston: "Haven't you people ever heard of seatbelts?" 

 Charleston turned to look at the young man. "Look, this is not the time... huh?" This last remark was aimed towards what Charleston saw through the flame licked vision slit. Both Kevin and Charleston gaped at what they saw through it, then, they screamed. They were heading straight towards the very solid side of a mountain! Charleston grabbed hold of the control stick and yanked it towards himself, sending prayer to the Emperor and all his Saints that their speed was enough to make the flaps work. It did. The ship slowly rose, higher than the mountain, but it wasn't enough. The tail of it smacked against a ridge, destroying one flap, half a wing and two engines. The ship careened towards the ground, turning over end. 

 After a minute of free, uncontrolled crash-diving, the Night Hawk finally hit the ground in a spray of dirt, rocks and various parts of it. It flipped over end again one, two, three times. It finally came to rest three kilometres from the first crash site, skidding to a halt. The Night Hawk was caked in dirt, wings missing, missiles gone, every centimetre of it burnt and blackened. 

 Inside, the group was picking themselves up and together. McKenzie got up and made a quick count of people. He turned to Charleston. 

 "I'll say this my friend; you're a great pilot, but you really need to work on your landings." 

 Charleston glared at his friend, but McKenzie just responded with a big, gap-toothed grin. "Oh, like you could do better?" Charleston snorted. 

 "Cut it, you two." McGranth cut them off. "Is everyone alright?" 

 "I'll live..." Kevin groaned as he got up. His back was sore after the bouncing around. He thought the armour was meant to protect, but he'd felt every bounce. 

 "May, get off me!" Marie said as she tried to wriggle out underneath he sister. 

 "Aw, quite whining!" was May's curt reply as she got up and recollected her flamer. 

 Edd motioned to Ed that they'd had to help Eddy up. In the crazy dive, Eddy had fallen off his feet and was having trouble getting upright. He felt like a turtle on its back. Charleston saw what was happening, went over, and lifted Eddy easily to his feet. 

 Edd looked around, concerned. "Where's Johnny?" 

 Suddenly, as if on que, a door to a small compartment came open, smacking Kevin in his head in the process, and Johnny rolled out of it, Plank in tow. "Woohoo! That was fun!" Johnny exclaimed happily. "Can we do it again?" 

 Everyone else just stared at him. 

 "What?" Johnny asked sounding genuinely confused. 

 McGranth was first to recall from this. "Come on," he said and gestured towards the exit door. Charleston and he meddled with it for a moment until they fianlly got it open. It opened the wrong way, it seemed on them, which confirmed their thoughts on that they were upside-down. McGranth jumped out first, followed by McKenzie, Charleston, the Eds, the girls and Johnny. Rolf was nowhere to be seen, but no one seemed to bother. 

 "I'm starting to feel grateful for this armour." Nazz said silently as she stroke the Rosarius on her chest. 

 "Okay," McGranth said, rubbing his hands together. "We need to find people." 

 "I don't think that should be a problem..." McKenzie said sheepishly as he gazed down the barrel of a hell pistol. The hell pistol was in the hands of a young man in a black uniform with blue trims on coat and peaked cap. 

 The others looked around as well. A collection of roughly thirty men and women in Imperial Guard issue uniforms was surrounding them. They were obviously led by the commissar cadet who was pointing his gun at McKenzie's face. The men and women were all holding lasguns or autoguns, the muzzle of each weapon aiming towards the Marines and company. 

 "And here, I thought hospitality was dead," Eddy remarked politely. 

To Be Contiuned 


	4. No Guts, No ED

No Guts, No ED  
  
"They came to take our land and lifes  
To terminate our race  
All across the galaxy  
They leave a deadly trace"   
--Excerpt of Iron Savior's Predators   
  
(NOTE: There are two character names in here, which aren't my own (except the Yarricks), and these are Colonel-commissar Ibram Gaunt and Commissar General Delane Oktar. These are the (c) Copyright of Dan Abnett and GW Publishing Ltd. Other names that are (c) copyright of Games Workshop Ltd are; the Berzerkers, the Thousand Sons, the Plague Marines, the Noise Marines, the Night Lords, the Word Bearers, the Alpha Legion and the Black Legion)  
  
On the planet Secondus (to be more exact, it's a giant moon around a gas-planet), the heart of the Galactic Imperium of Mankind is situated. Secondus surface is more or less completely given over to institutions, libraries and the like. Examples to be given are the Adeptus Ministorum, or the Ecclesiarch as it's commonly known, the Departomento Munitorum, the Imperial Palace itself and, one of its more well-known and both feared and revered institutions: The Commissarius Imperia (the Imperial Commissariat). This institution is relatively young, compared to the others, and it has strong links with the Ecclesiarch and the Munitorum, as well as the Imperial high politics too.   
Now, its history of creation is a quite interesting one, a fairytale almost. It might seem odd, that an institution as influential and important as the Commissariat begun its being in a revolution. Strange? Perhaps. It depends on how you see it. All Imperial Commissars are known to be fiercely loyal to the Imperial Cause, devout followers of the Imperial Cult and good politicians and warriors to boot. A commissar leads from the front, using his charisma and fiery zeal to urge his fellow soldiers onwards, to defeat the enemies of Mankind. If a commissar isn't at the front, you can most surely find him attending duties such as making sure of the soldiers' well being, the purity of their faith, deal punishment to those who break the Law etc. A commissar rarely attends to staff-work, if he can avoid it. However, there are those few who enjoy an easy life along with good living in abundance. And it was this type of indulgent humans that born the opposite: the zealous political officers that are with the Guardsmen at the front.   
It happened on the desolate industrial world of Moskva, a planet renowned for its fine steel-craftsmanship, oil findings and liquor. However, the system that governed Moskva was corrupt, to the core. By this time, which was around 235.000 Imperial Years (about 500.000 years ago, our counting), the Imperium had so-called political commissars situated on each planet, but they were far from the modern-day Imperium's zealous warriors. On Moskva, these "polkoms", as they got known by the local people, lived in abundance and luxury, while the people was starving. And they seemed oblivious to the fact, the local politicians and governors backing them up. They could easily hide any proof from the High Lords, and they thought themselves invulnerable were they sat. However, they had slight problems with increasing crime. One of the polkoms suggested the introducing of what he called "naroddny komissars": People's Commissars. His idea was that you took the hardest working man from each district, trained him in politics and Law, gave him a slight raise, a mark to show his new status and inserted him to work together with the local Arbiters. He would also make sure the workers in his district followed the Imperial and Moskvanian Laws. A brilliant idea all else thought in the council. Little did they know, that two hundred years after they'd clubbed through this plan, it would spell the doom of the High Polkom Council, and mark the start of a new era, both for Moskva and for the Imperium. And it would come in the shape of one man: Narkom Michailovitch Mischkin.   
There are, both on Moskva and the Imperial Commissariat on Secondus, statues of Mischkin that depicts him as a tall man, well over two metres, of a strong and athletic build, with the distinct heavy nose of his people. What the statues can't depict is that he had emerald, piercing eyes and red-blond hair. There are few surviving records of Mischkin's past, but a few, tattered pergaments state that he was a common worker who'd proven himself worthy of narkom training. He'd passed the training and received the coat and cap and the insignia. But, what they don't state is that he never thought himself as more than a worker. Mischkin came to see the rifts in the society with the clearness like the light that a sun emits. He soon gathered the narkoms of the surrounding districts, and they formed into smaller councils themselves, consulting what to do, to prevent crime in their districts at first, but later, and to plan the revolution. Now, the Moskvanian word for council was "soviet", but the narkoms didn't calls themselves soviets. They instead stripped off the "naroddny" from their ranks, simply calling themselves Commissars.   
The interest in Mischkin's council grew, as the news spread around Moskva, from industry district to district. Mischkin and his closest friends had to work undercover for many years, until the final result of their efforts came to day. And it truly came. Mischkin had welded together an army from nothing, his connections throughout Moskva making it possible to initiate a general strike all over Moskva. The hours that passed as the High Council tried to figure out the reasons to the strike was all Mischkin needed. His ragtag force of workers and Commissars stormed the seat of the High Council, the Winter Palace. It is said Mischkin led the attack himself, leading from the front, laying down a legacy that would carry throughout the years. It is also said that it was here that the insignia of the Imperial Commissariat was made, although there are no proof of it. The legend goes that Mischkin had struck down a PDF soldier, and had picked off the man's silver mark on his forage cap. Mischkin had stuck the winged skull upon his peaked cap, and continued his attack. His comrades had soon followed his example.   
As the army breached the Outer Walls, it was easy to get to the centre of it all. Mischkin, with a company of seven friends of his, stormed the main council hall. Needless to say, Mischkin and his friends took no prisoners. The polkoms had managed to send out a distress signal, but when the Imperial forces arrived, months later, they found that it was no idea. Mischkin and his friends now controlled Moskva, and they did it good. In a few years, Moskva was changed to the better for all. The Imperial High Lords, having heard of the efficiency of the Commissars of Moskva, voiced their interest in founding the Imperial Commissariat. They didn't mention the fact that the dangerously increasing treason of Imperial Guard demanded something like this to be done, but Mischkin understood the point. Together with his three closest friends: Vassily Timoschenko, Ivanovitch Lorganov and Pytor Vonov, he made up the founding principles of the Imperial Commissariat. They also picked out a uniform to use, sticking with the coats and caps they knew. Little did Mischkin know what awaited him the week after the message was sent.   
Mischkin never would live to see his work come to fruition, i.e. he never saw the Imperial Commissariat born. He fell suddenly ill after the message to the Imperium had been sent, and the diagnostic was clear: malign cancer in his heart-muscles, incurable in the Imperium but also very rare. The powerful man that Mischkin had been withered away in a matter of months. He became a tall, gaunt skeleton, his eyes sunken and weary. This was only a bi-effect of his weakened state. His weakening heart meant that he couldn't walk in the end, lame on both legs and one arm. He became completely bed-bound. His dear friend Timoschenko was the last one to see the legendary man alive. Timoschenko himself was a short, stocky man with brown hair and a build that suggested a massive physical strength and a natural rotundity. He wrote in his memoirs that he'd admired Mischkin very much, and was very pained to see him die as slowly as he did.   
It was Timoschenko who reported that Mischkin was dead. He'd died while Timoschenko had gone out to get a message that had arrived, and to bring his dying his friend something to drink. Timoschenko wrote in his book that: "Nothing has pained me so, as to step into that room, seeing a life-long friend dead. And I, a coming Commissar General of the Imperium, could do nothing but watch. And it pained me even more, when I understood what it was that was in the data-slate I'd received. Mischkin had known. He'd willed himself to live long enough to make sure I got the message... It's my belief he'd thought so. His Will also declared that he wanted me to take over. I remember at that time, that I'd wanted Lorganov to have fetched the message, instead of me..."   
And Timoschenko had fulfilled his friend's will. He made the final fixing and twirking with the Commissariat. He'd settled for a uniform: black greatcoat and peaked cap with red trimmings and silver winged skull insignia adorning the peaked cap. He'd also, with help from the original hundred commissars, completed the huge volume that contains the Edicts and Dogmas of an Imperial Commissar. It had been mastodontic work, but in the end, Timoschenko had pulled it off. He'd personally trained the first batch of commissars, and the Imperial High Lords had made him Commissar General. The Imperial Commissars weren't intended to have actual command of the forces they served with, but the High Lords thought it fitting that a select few could attain military rank. And so it was. Timoschenko's stocky shape can be found as a statue in the innermost sanctum of the Imperial Commissariat, standing together with his tall friend: Michail Mischkin.   
This brings up to date with what a Commissar stands for. Mischkin wanted it clear that a Commissar led by example and from the front. "Don't ever tell soldiers what to do, unless you would do it yourself," is one of the first things a Cadet Commissar learns. He also learns many other things: to pull off a great, pompous phrase, guide those faltering in faith and much, much more. To make it simple: An Imperial Commissar is faith, courage and power impersonated. None is above his scrutiny. A commissar rarely thinks of humans as beings, but as tools in the Emperor's Service. This may earn them the enmity of many soldiers and officers, but it is needed, because unlike military officers, a commissar always acts with the Imperium's interests in mind, not the safety of the men he's commanding. With Commissar Generals, this is different, of course.   
A Commissar has one more thing with him: Fear. Unruly soldiers and, indeed, officers, have many times faced the wrath of a Commissar. Soldiers can be put back in line with a simple punch, but officers are a different matter. More often than not, summary execution might be the only solution for a Commissar. Therefore, Imperial Guardsmen have learned just to fear and respect the very uniform of a Commissar. Summary executions are a rarity, but as soon as a colonel, captain or even a general wants to leave the battle behind and flee, the ever-present Commissar steps up and delivers the Emperor's Wrath.   
Violence, however, is rarely a Commissar's first choice of action. If he/she can, the Commissar will use his/her pull and final say in a question. If that doesn't work, they switch on the charisma and lure them to act, as the Imperium wants. Female Commissars have an extra hand on this point. The last way is always summary execution.   
Commissars are almost always the son or daughter of a deceased Imperial Official, i.e. a Imperial Guard officer, Administratum clerk, Planetary Governor's offspring etc. These orphans are sent to the spiritual school called the Schola Progenum, where they get trained in the Imperial Creed, Religion and the use of weapons. They also learn history and many other things, some of their own choice. They are trained by so-called Drill Abbots. The vast majority of the boys might become Navy Officers, Clerks, Preachers or Drill Abbots themselves. Relatively few chose to become Commissars, knowing what kind of life awaits them. As for the girls, a great many become Sisters of Battle. Only a handful of girls, on about fifty boys, chose to become Commissar. I.e. if fifty boys become Commissars, a maximum of five girls become it as well, and the training is years long and hard. On the contrary to what one might think, female Commissars are often more popular than their male counterparts, they succeed better in the Guard, and 96% of the girls who are picked out as Cadets finish their training (they don't get killed or fail in any other way), on the contrary to 54% amongst the boys. Imperial Statistics are still confused over why this is...   
The Roll of Honour for the Commissars is long, very long. Over a billion names adorns the pages in the Book of Fallen Comrades in the Commissariat. This book is currently four volumes big, and it grows for every day, as ten names are added each day, at a minimum. Some of the greatest Commissars get statues erected after them. Notable Commissars, that should be common knowledge to many Imperial Commissars, are: Commissar Michail Mischkin (counted as one as he founded the Commissariat), Commissar General Vassily Timoschenko, Commissar General Karl Reichard, Commissar Hans Wiedelmann, Commissar Elisabeth Hawkins, Colonel-commissar Ibram Gaunt, Commissar General Delane Oktar, Commissar Jean Bournemouth, Commissar Kiima Halonen, Commissar General Amadeus Chomaki, Commissar General Rolf Yarrick and his grand-son Commissar Sebastian Yarrick. These twelve Commissars all stand as statues in the Main Hallway of the Commissariat on Secondus.   
  
The two lastly mentioned bring us to our heroes, who now are stranded on Secondus, in a not too pleasant situation.   
  
The collection of twelve men, boys and girls looked at the Guardsmen and women before them. McKenzie was still staring down the barrel of the hellpistol the commissar cadet was wielding. McGranth and Charleston seemed to study the surrounding men and women, obviously judging their chances to escape from them, if it called for it. The odds came out hopelessly low...   
From the distance, the distinct and pleasurable rumbling of a four-stroke, two cylinder motor could be heard. It came closer and closer. The black and red trimmed motorbike pulled up a few metres from the group. A man in a black greatcoat was sitting upon it. He seemed oblivious to the twelve warriors by the demolated Thunderhawk. The cadet commissar stepped away from McKenzie, lowering the hellpistol, but not holstering it.   
"What the frekk is this?" the man growled. The Guardsmen and women turned to him and stood into attention. The cadet commissar ripped off a salute. The man on the bike got off and steadied it on the ground. As he walked up, the Eds saw immediately that he was a commissar. Black greatcoats were common, but the peaked caps with the silver winged skull weren't. The man wasn't big, just around 1m60, but he was well built. He wasn't fat, just too muscly for such a small body. He seemed to be in his mid-forties. He had dark hair, heavy features and piercing dark green eyes. He had an overall look that gave the impression he'd been forced to wear the commissars' uniform.   
"Here I take you down to this valley, Cadet Jorun, for training exercises. Then I leave you for just an hour to report where you'll be training, and when I come back I find that you've taken off from the training site and-" The commissar turned to look at McKenzie, who'd coughed politely. "What in the name of the Emperor?"   
Now the commissar finally noticed the Eds and company, the destroyed Thunderhawk transport and a lot of mud. It was a both tragic and insane scene. How had this happened? The commissar looked at the people before the upside-down Thunderhawk; two Terminator armoured Marines (which looked very much alike each other), two Marines in power armour and wearing jump packs (they also looked very much alike), three Marines in ordinary power armour, of which two looked alike and both wore the insignia of the Adeptus Astartes Librarium. There were also four girls in the power armour of the Sisters of Battle and a young boy wearing the shimmering and sickening alien armour of an Eldar psyker-witch. The only thing missing is a commissar, he thought darkly to himself.   
The commissar was silent for a long while until he spoke, and it was with shock-blended fascination. "What in the blazes is all this? And who are you people?"   
McGranth stepped forward, pushing back McKenzie gently. "Excuse me. I'm Grand Commander Eddie McGranth of the Death Angel Legio Astartes and these are..."   
The short commissar cut him off. "You're a legendary Space Marine commander, who disappeared hundreds of years ago? Right, and I am Ghazghkull Thraka. You're most probably a bunch of renegades!" The short man pulled out a bolt pistol and aimed it at McGranth. "Give me one good reason not to deal you the Emperor's Grace."   
Now McKenzie and Charleston stepped forward as well, to back their commander up. McKenzie's force sword glowed slightly as he touched it.   
"Excuse me?" McGranth said and cocked an eyebrow as he looked down the bolt pistol's barrel.   
"What is all this?" a familiar voice said from behind. Everybody present turned to look at the tall, lean shape of Rolf standing at the entrance of the Thunderhawk. Rolf's greatcoat had gotten caught in between the chairs inside, and he'd stayed behind to free himself properly. He'd heard the commotion outside, and had come out of the ship with his sword drawn. At least he had tried to pull it out, but the ancient blade had gotten stuck in its sheath and as Rolf pulled and tugged at it, he forgot that the 'Hawk was upside-down. When the sword finally came free, Rolf stepped out in mid-air, made a somersault and landed on his back on the ground. The sword dug itself into the ground beside his head.   
"Rolf is not having a good day..." Rolf said weakly to himself as he lay on the ground.   
The burly commissar saw Rolf in the commissar's uniform and was taken off guard. The coat was camouflaged, but there was no mistaking with the cap insignia. A golden Imperial Eagle, the modified insignia that had been used by the commissars serving in the armies from Callidus and Ichar.   
"What the... Who is..." the short commissar stuttered forth. He turned suddenly silent when he saw the glittering adamantium sword with the golden parrying bar shaped like an Imperial Eagle sticking out of the ground next to Rolf.   
"What in the name of the Emperor of Mankind?" the short commissar whispered. He turned and eyed over the soldiers before talking to the cadet commissar. "Take them to their transports. We're going back to base camp." Then he turned to the thirteen by the Thunderhawk.   
"You lot, follow them to the Chimeras." he said and motioned to the armoured personnel carriers nearby. With that, he walked back to his motorbike and with the aid of two guardsmen they moved it into one of the Chimera APCs.   
Meanwhile, the Eds helped Rolf up. Eddy looked at the short commissar with contempt in his eyes. "Well," he said simply. "The commissars are as charming as ever."   
Rolf glared at Eddy, but didn't speak.   
Putting on, what he hoped, was a charming smile, Eddy replied, "No offence, Roflie-boy."   
As they got to the Chimera APC, the commissar got his motorbike loaded up and walked in, his eyes glaring at the thirteen Terrans. Inside, he sat down in a corner, by himself. Charleston, McGranth and McKenzie and the girls went into the same Chimera as him. The Eds, Rolf, Kevin and Johnny moved into a second Chimera, along with the nervous looking cadet commissar and five guardsmen. As the six Terrans moved up to the Chimera, Edd and Eddy got in and seated. Ed, on the other hand, didn't want to go into the cramped, dark APC.   
"It's dark in there," Ed stated simply.   
Rolf lost his temper. "Ed, get inside, or you'll hurt... much!"   
Ed scrambled inside, followed by Rolf, Johnny, Kevin, the cadet commissar named Jorun and the five guardsmen. Inside, Edd gave Eddy a look that said that all was not well with Rolf.   
The drivers of the Chimeras received order to leave via vox-link with their commanding commissar. They ignited the enormous diesel engines of the APCs, the roaring of them deafened a bit by the armour plating on the tanks, and turning round, churning mud, the total of five Chimera transports turned and headed due east.   
  
The ride back to what the short commissar referred to as 'base camp', was long and bumpy. McKenzie estimated it had took them 2 hours to travel, and he thought himself never to be able to sit properly again. As the Terrans got out of the Chimeras, they found themselves at a large compound. It was a huge base. It contained barracks, motor pool, machine shops and even a start and landing platform for interstellar ships. Everywhere there was Imperial Guardsmen milling around, but also many clerks in their stiff robes and red-robed members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. There was a few Sisters of Battle wandering around too, but they wandered in groups of their own and didn't mingle with the others.   
The short commissar directed some guardsmen to get his bike off the Chimera and roll it off to a machine shop. After that, he gestured to the cadet commissar and spoke to him silently for a while. After that, the younger man left at a jog towards one of the barracks. McGranth had had about enough of this now. He wanted answers and he wanted them now!   
He grabbed the short commissar by the arm and spun him round abruptly. The short man glared contemptuously up at McGranth, as if the Marine just would dare to handle him like that!   
"Look here Mac, who the frekk are you?" McGranth asked.   
The short commissar shook himself free from McGranth's grip. "Commissar Colonel Tomas Masterson, that's who."   
"Commissar colonel?"   
"Is there a problem with that? I'm in charge of this planet's security." Masterson paused a moment. "And you just don't drop a Thunderhawk like that unto Secondus' surface without me knowing, right?"   
"Right..." McGranth sighed. This was not good. He'd had his fair share of commissars' stubbornness in the past, Yarrick being a good example.   
"Tomas, what is all this? What's going on?" Another commissar had joined them. He was taller, just under 1m80, with blond hair, hooded blue eyes, a powerful jaw and equally powerful build. There was something aristocratic about him, something that oozed out from him telling everyone else that he was a commissar and proud of it. It could've been charisma, if it hadn't been a tad repelling. He seemed to be in his late thirties.   
"These people just crash-landed a Thunderhawk by the training site. Y'know, the thing we thought was an asteroid?" Masterson said to his comrade.   
"Yes, I remember now. So?" The new commissar was silent for a while, then he spoke again. "Maybe I should present myself: I am Commissar Colonel Alexander Demontfurt. I'm second ranking of this here planet's Commissariat. Judging by the looks of your faces, I shall explain; the Imperium is not its glorious self, therefore the Commissariat is divided into groups, due to the constant deterioration of our com-nets." Here, Demontfurt threw a glance at Masterson. Masterson threw an acidic glance back. Then the shorter commissar left, attending to other duties.   
"Ladies and gentlemen, I think it best you were dealt with by the Commissar General, don't you think so too?"   
Demontfurt gestured the Terrans to follow him.   
They entered one of the larger buildings in the compound. Its gate was adorned by a gilt, double-headed aquila, and Demontfurt opened the doors inwards, leading the way for the thirteen Terrans. A pair of Guardsmen in carapace armour closed the doors behind them.   
Once inside, one couldn't believe that the Imperium of Man was deteriorating. There were marble pillars and floors, small, crystal plants and shrubs in pots. McKenzie was the first to notice the pictures: Fine oil paintings, depicting nothing less than the Liberation of Armageddon, the destruction of Juijaeg, the Gathalamor Uprising and even the Fall of Kharn. They passed a huge bronze statue of the Emperor too. Everywhere, there was political officers and ordinary Guard officers. There were also a few Canonesses from the Adepta Sororita and, McKenzie thought, even a lone Inquisitor, though he wasn't entirely sure.   
The thirteen, along with Demontfurt, walked up two flights of stairs before the colonel-commissar stopped them. They were now in some sort of meeting chamber. There were oil paintings of famous Guard officers on the walls. The rest of the room was largely dominated by a mahogany table and a hololithic map projector.   
"Wait here," Demontfurt told them before sneaking out through a door at the end of the room. The thirteen looked around, awed.   
"One wouldn't believe the Imperium was falling apart, y'know." Charleston whispered.   
McKenzie walked over to the projector. "In very fine condition. Maybe the Tech-adepts have learned something in the last two hundred years?"   
"Like not relying in chants and such voodoo?" Charleston replied caustically.   
McKenzie was just to reply with a very rude remark, when Demontfurt came back. But this time he wasn't alone.   
"May I present," Demontfurt said and gestured to the accompanying figure. "Commissar General Yarrick."   
Everyone stared at Demontfurt first, and then at the smaller figure by his side. A look of disbelief entered the face of every Terran. The commissar general was a woman, but still carrying the black, red-trimmed commissar's uniform with dignity. She was smaller than Demontfurt, just above 1m70, in her mid-forties, but still with a youthful looking face under the black, peaked cap. Her hair was bluish-black, just as Rolf's, and her eyes were an emerald green colour. But still, everyone present had problems with the fact that she was a woman.   
"That'll be all, Alex. Excuse us." she said gently to Demontfurt, her voice having a tiny tint of Rolf's lilt dialect.   
"Yes, sir," Demontfurt replied without thinking.   
"Ma'am, Alex." the commissar general corrected.   
"Yes, ma'am." And with that, Demontfurt left.   
After Demontfurt had left, the female commissar general sadly shook her head. "He just can't get used to the fact that the Commissar General is a woman." She looked at the fish-faced group of Terrans. "And I see he's not the only one. Alex only introduced me formally, but most people around here know me either as Ma'am Yarrick, the Commissar General, or more familiarly: Tanya Yarrick."   
A shocked silence followed, which was broken by McGranth. "What the fr..." He reminded himself he was in female company. "What is going on around here? I demand an explanation!"   
"You'll get your explaination soon enough. You're Grand Commander McGranth, no? As you see, I know my history." Tanya looked at the sword sheathed on Rolf's back. "And that is-"   
"Yes," Rolf interrupted. "The Yarrickian Family Sword, the Deamonslayer Sword." He knew the mantra.   
"I almost didn't believe it when Tomas voxed me. Our precious family heirloom, intact and back in the Imperium. But, who might all you people be? I only know you three." Tanya gestured to McGranth, McKenzie and Charleston.   
"Bit of a long story," Rolf sighed.   
"I have time." Tanya replied with a charming smile. So Rolf, with the help of the others, told Tanya the entire story of how they got there. There was also a smaller introduction, with Tanya getting to know them all. She seemed a bit reluctant with Johnny, but she put up a good face none-the-less. They all had sat down by the mahogany conference table and talked for how long they didn't know. Tanya had ordered in something to drink and to eat. When they finished, the sun had already set on Secondus.   
"So," Tanya said, putting down her glass of water. "The legend is true after all. The three Space Marine Commanders did survive Kharn's assault upon Secondus and escape through the Warp. It is wonderful to hear you've gathered more Heroes, and this will be a day to be long remembered, but I'm afraid you may have come too late."   
"What do you mean?" McGranth asked, sounding worried, not very usual for him.   
"I will explain." Tanya said. She picked out a tiny laser-disc from her pocket and put it in the data-reader of the hololithic projector. A golden aquila hovered in the air above the projector as Tanya pressed in her authorisation code. She took a remote and pressed a few buttons on it.   
A picture of Guardsmen battling Deamons of Khorne came up. She showed it to them while she spoke. "After the defeat of Kharn, the Imperium settled into a relatively peaceful time. Many communication links and Warp-jump points had been severed, but we still remained somewhat intact. Of course, we were still harassed by stray warbands of Deamons," Tanya changed a picture to that of a charging horde of Hormagaunts. "And the Hive Mind occasionally. But all in all, it was a quiet time."   
Tanya didn't change to a battle scene now; it was a sad picture showing a Space Marine without his gear, holding a small boy in his massive arms. Not quite what the group had expected. "Now, in an attempt to make sure no more renegades as powerful as Kevlinn would ever come back, the Imperial Government made the big mistake of disbanding the Space Marine Legions. Most Marines accepted their fates, and some settled back quietly as farmers. Ichar's Death Angels were those that went most quietly. They accepted without question, but this almost killed Ichar as a planet. Without the Marines, Ichar was nothing. And this wasn't the only problem." Tanya showed a picture of an extremely spiky Marine, carrying the eight-pointed star of Chaos on its left shoulder pad. Its armour was dark blue with brass trimmings. "There were many Marines that turned from the Imperium entirely. Too many. The Imperial Government hadn't thought of this, being newly formed and untrained in this sort of politics. The only disbanded (mark that), Legions that remained loyal was the Death Angels, the Salamanders, the Iron hands and the Imperial Fists. All others turned renegade. They enslaved their home-planets and a few even took surrounding systems. These new Chaos Legions joined up along with the original four; the Berzerkers (leaderless), the Thousand Sons, the Plague Marines and the Noise Marines. Some of the renegade Legions took new names like the Night Lords, the Word Bearers, the Alpha Legion and the Black Legion. The Inquisition, or what can be called the Neo-Inquisition perhaps, carried out rapid punishment and bombed the planets with anti-matter bombs. However, there are still stray warbands of these renegades out in the space of this once glorious Imperium. That explains Tomas' reaction upon you, my power armoured friends."  
Tanya changed picture again. The hol-projector showed Thunderhawks landing in the bays of a battleship.   
"That's when refugees started to swarm in from the rim worlds like Fraonn, Moskva, Niiwar and Alantie. They first fled to the central systems, carrying tales of monstrous robotic men, mechanoids that thought, that were destructively well organised, almost like Hive Fleets. They assaulted worlds, killing or abducting entire populations. Nothing living stood in their way. The Magos Xenos dubbed them the Necrons, after an old text he'd found. It was in fact a report from Commander Charleston here."   
Tanya changed picture to a huge footage of the Necrontyr. "Judging by your story, you've encountered the Necrons already, and know what the refugees had faced. And as time passed, more and more refugees poured in from the rim worlds, and later even from central systems like Sabal, Cathay and Amaith. When the new threat of Iron Men reached Ronan and former Space Marine home-world Nocturne, a huge fleet was gathered, along with million Guardsmen and two whole Orders of Sisters of Battle. They were to intercept this new threat and stop it. At least that was the plan."   
Tanya now showed a battlefield footage taken at a scene of battle between Necrontyr and Imperial forces. "This crusade force found something far worse than we could ever have expected. The Necrontyr, as we got verified their designation was, had captured the entire northern border, and was on good way with the southern. They left charred, lifeless rock behind themselves, reminding us in a horrible way of the Hive Fleets, who used much the same method. Though, judging by the footage we have of some of the Necrontyr mechanoids, not even the Hive Fleet proved a problem to them. Anyway, the entire crusade force intercepted this new threat on the Hive World Ronan.   
"The Necrontyr fell upon them as ravenous deamons, but this was deamons of steel. At first, the huge Imperial force was able to hold off its assailants, despite horrendous causalities. That's when the Necrons started to deploy a strange sort of high-energy laser-weapon, a sort of cannon that cut straight through our strongest adamantine plates. Baneblade super-heavy tanks were incinerated by a single beam!"   
Tanya sighed, and changed picture again. This time it was a roll of causalities. "Within a matter of weeks since the deployment of that new weapon, eighty per cent of the Imperial Guard, and sixty per cent of the Sister Sororitas in that task force had been wiped out. The Inquisitors that had accompanied it had been captured or killed. Commissar-colonel Tomas Masterson was one of the survivors in the Imperial Guard force, so I hope that explains his grumpy behaviour somewhat.   
"Refugees come in by the millions, day by day... those that make it, that is. Many say they've been attacked by the renegade Legions as well. Most of the Imperium's population is stationed out to the west and east. We try to clear a path for the Necrons, hope they'll just pass straight through, but it appears they seek us out. Minarth, Babel and Arborkar are huge refugee camps now, sixty percent of the remaining Imperial Guard stationed there. We've even recalled a few squads of Space Marines, but not too many, should they be tempted to side with their renegade brethren. So, most of the Imperium's population is located to the Galactic West and South now. Our food and supplies runs shorter every day. You've seen Armageddon; deserted and arid. But that was long before the Necrons. The Deamons did that."   
Tanya turned of the hololithic projector and sat down on a chair and rested her head in her hands. She was so tired of this. Rolf, who was sitting beside her, leant forward and patted her on the shoulder. He was a bit surprised when she leaned over to him, resting her head against his shoulder instead.   
McGranth looked bewildered. "But, judging by this place, it doesn't seem like supplies are running short."   
Tanya looked up. "This used to be the original Imperial Commissariat. We have dug it out of the dust. This was once one of the higher spires of it, so you can imagine how much dust has accumulated. Everything was incredibly well-preserved."   
McKenzie looked thoughtful. A building five hundred metres tall wasn't that easily covered in dust. Didn't make sense. "How could it be covered in dust in just four hundred years?" he asked. "I mean, such violent dust-storms or what?"   
"Yes," Tanya replied. "The mere fact that an entity as Kharn was present here was enough to shake the eco-system a bit, see?"   
McKenzie nodded.   
"Does the Necron's have any leader?" Charleston asked.   
"We have had several reports of a huge mechanoid leading the Necrons on their assaults. We've given him the name Metallix for simplicity." Tanya saw their faces. "Don't blame me, I didn't name him. However, he is a frightening opponent. Standing well over six metres tall, he is quite capable of tearing a Leman Russ apart with his bare hands. Here, I'll show you."   
Tanya pulled out a data-slate from somewhere, tapped a few keys and handed it round. Each and every Terran got a shocked look in their faces, including McKenzie, Charleston and McGranth. The picture showed General Metallix in his whole glory, charging straight at the unit containing the pict-taker. The stern, emotionless, half-metallic face made the picture so much worse. Metallix had a jump-pack like device mounted on his back. His arms were powerful, and literally corded with muscle, bionic muscles. His hands were three digit and his forearms encased in powerful gauntlet-like armour. On each arm a weapon was mounted. One the left a hefty gatling-like cannon, on the right a twin-barrelled beam-gun, the kind that ordinary Necrons used. His feet were digit ones with three "toes", and his legs looked like a bi-pedal dinosaur's. They also saw the tiny flash from the pistol size laser weapon mounted by the side of his metallic, right face-half.   
"That is the only footage we have of him. He left the pict-taker for dead, God-Emperor be blessed. See, the human outpost was there to stave off an assault by Ork Warlord Thraka, I believe the three of you are familiar with him," Tanya said and gestured to McGranth and his two friends. "Here's another strange thing. When the Imperial relief force came, nothing was left of the Orks, nothing. There was no Warp-traces from Orkoid ships either. Our simple conclusion was that Metallix slew one of the mightiest Ork Warlord without greater effort."   
Charleston let out a low whistle. "I battled against him on Armageddon just before the fall. Dirt-bag survived, then? Anyway, it was him or Seb."   
"Seb?" Tanya queried.   
"Sebastian Yarrick."   
"The Saviour of Hades Hive? You knew the Saviour of Hades Hive?"   
"Personally," Charleston replied with a smile. "We all did, ain't that so, Eddie? Edward?"   
The other two nodded. Tanya looked impressed.   
"Tanya, you said this was the former Imperial Commissariat, no? Have you dug out the... hm... basements?" Rolf asked.   
"Yes, of course. The Book of Fallen Comrades is back in our hands. No worries."   
McKenzie looked thoughtful. "Can we see the sub-levels, please? I never got time to visit the Commissariat and I've heard that it was quite something."   
"Of course!" Tanya smiled. "This way ladies and gentlemen." Tanya led them out and towards an elevator. Rolf walked up beside Eddy.   
"You were right Ed-boy, the commissars are as charming as ever." Rolf said and smiled. Eddy just rolled his eyes.   
"After this," Tanya said as they went with the elevator down. "I think it would be a good idea for you to find somewhere to sleep, no?"   
As to mark her words, Ed yawned. "Bed... How good that word sounds." he mumbled.   
Everyone present laughed at this remark. 


	5. ED of the Navigator part 1

ED of the Navigator

"Thunder and lightning and fire

Are guiding the trip of my life

Insatiable burning desire

As into the unknown I dive" 

**--Excerpt from Gamma Ray's Beyond the Black Hole**

 Psyker; a loaded word in the Imperium of Mankind. There are many homonyms for psyker: mind reader, wyrd, wizard, sorcerer and, the most commonly employed, witch. The psychic mutation that creates psychic humans is regarded amongst the vast bulk of humanity with doubt. Some Inquisitors say it is the next step of human evolution; from Homo sapiens to Homo Psychana, but few listen to them and the witch-hunters continue their purges. It is true, most psykers found are not powerful enough to be trained as useful of their kin, and so they are eliminated from existence. Therefore, a weak psyker's life is mercilessly short, once discovered. And these weak psykers is often ordinary people, how've been born with great powers. They might be able to bend spoons and foresee the weather, but not much more, but the Inquisition roots them out, and deletes them anyway. The reason is given later. 

 Moderately powerful psykers are often taken into training for use in the Scholasta Psykana, should they be young enough, but even here, a great many are deleted by the Inquisition. A few promising are taken up as Inquisitor Acolytes, if worthy. Those moderately powerful psykers, who are discovered in the puberty or later, are however always deleted. 

 The most powerful psykers are the Space Marine Librarians. The lowest ranking of these psykers, Lexicanums, are easily capable of bending steel girders with their minds. They can call forth raging thunderstorms with a gesture. The Codiciers are even more powerful, capable of perceiving the outcome of a battle, keeping things floating in the air for days by sheer force of will. 

 Next in line comes the Epistolaries, ranking only lower than the Chief Librarians (or the Master Lexicanums). The Epistolaries can see decades into the future, taking courses of action to make sure the outcome sees to their, or the Imperium's, needs. The most powerful Space Marine psykers, and therefore even human, are the Master Lexicanums, the Chief Librarians of the Space Marine legions. These individuals can perceive the future in the mesmerising web it is, and chose the right course. They can destroy lesser deamons with a single word of power, alter the weather with a flick of a wrist and even guide ships through the eddies of the Warp. Few Space Marine psykers are of true Master Lexicanum level, though. Not more than one per regiment. 

 There are two special kinds of psychic mutations, however, which humanity takes great care in protecting: the Navigators mutation and the mighty psykers Astropath. 

 We start with Astropaths. Astropath is an abbreviation of astro-telepath, and it describes a psyker capable of sending a message through the Warp. As the great distances between the stars make all other means of communication worthless, the Astropaths are highly regarded. They are the only ones able to send and receive messages over the Warp. Nearly all people with the Astropath mutation are recruited in the Imperium's use, and countless are executed, because they are too dangerous to let live. 90 per cent of the Imperial psykers are Astropaths. And with this number, it means those in Imperial service. The untrained mass is probably three times as many as the Astropaths. 

 Navigators are different. Their mutation goes through families, just like the Space Marine mutation. However, the gene only shows up if both parents are Navigators. They have a strange 'third eye' which enables them to navigate through the eddies of the Warp. However, they have no other psychics than this ability, and this renders them almost immune to the inhabitants of the Warp. 

 Which brings us to the next subject: Deamons. 

 Deamons. Etherworlders. Warp beasts. Chaos spawn. They have many names. And they all differ greatly in size, power and looks. But they all have one in common; they reside in the Warp and they are our worst nightmares given form. They are the minions of a myriad of Gods, and the four most powerful Gods are brothers, and they control the most destructive deamons. These gods are (in power order) Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle and Slaanesh. Each god is very different from the other, as well as their minions. Khorne's warriors are powerfully set, muscular fighters; Tzeentch's wizards are very sly and intelligent beings, relying on guile instead of brute force; Nurgle's forces are bloated, rotting abominations, carrying horrendous contagions and lastly there's Slaanesh. His minions are trans-sexual creatures, both male and female at the same time, beautiful beyond mortal imagination as well as fanged and horned grotesques. The link these creatures known as deamons have with psykers is that a deamon can't materialize in the mortal realm, unless it does so through a psychic mortal of corresponding power. Thus, the most powerful deamons can only materialize through the most powerful psykers, and the most powerful psykers must therefore be trained and watched rigorously by the Imperial Inquisition. Lesser deamons can materialize through virtually any sort of psyker, whilst the deamon lords can't materialize through anything else than an Astropath or such powerful psyker. Many are however the occasions when Chaos cults have summoned greater deamons through rituals, and these greater deamons have then called forth lesser deamons. Without a psyker even featuring. Common are also the times when untrained psykers have been suddenly possessed by deamons, torn apart from the inside to give way to the beast. 

 Hence, this is why the Inquisition carries through with its purges of psykers. Although they know humanity is evolving to a psychic race, humans have not the knowledge to protect themselves from deamons as effectively as Eldar do. So for the time being, removing young psykers is considered the only way, and the Inquisition has forced this into the Imperial Religion as well. Psykers are abhorred by most Imperial citizens, as are the mutants. Not to word too much about mutants, but they are amongst all Imperials considered as deviants, marked by Chaos for some sin committed by their parents. They are either killed or used as slaves. End of story. 

 There has been many famous psykers through time, most of them Space Marine Master Lexicanums. The most powerful of these Space Marine Master psykers and most famous is without doubt Edward McKenzie. Though not born in Space Marine family, he was born with extraordinary psychic powers, and it is rumoured that he matches Eldar Farseers in his powers. He has proved judicious and wise in his use of his powers and like one would expect, he has never used them to achieve his own ends. 

 A famous non-Space Marine psyker was Lord Astropath Zebulon. He was a mighty psyker, one of the mightiest, capable of sending a message through the entire Imperium, without relay. He was lastly stationed on Armageddon, when the last war broke out. He remained there until the Siege, when the psychic scream of the Emperor's mortal death rippled through the Immaterium. As Zebulon was so close to Secondus, the force of the psychic ripple destroyed his brain. 

 A famous Inquisitor with psychic powers was Inquisitor Felix Rovannion. He was not as powerful as the before mentioned, but he was more than well capable of using his tricks. As an inquisitor, he had to use his powers to achieve his own ends. He is rumoured to have been closely involved in Rolf Yarrick's early days, but this is just hear-say. 

 These three form in a way a good example of the Imperium's finest psychic warriors, a breed shunned by its fellow humans, but regarded highly by the Emperor himself. And who is the Emperor if not the most powerful psychic entity in the Galaxy, rivalled only by the Hive Mind. 

 In the Imperium, people are split as to where the Emperor comes from and what he is. He is not human, that is for sure. There are those that whisper the word C'tan, but this is often dismissed as insane ramblings. There is only one person that knows, the Emperor himself, and he's not telling. 

 But it is in the Emperor's service one finds psykers and witch-hunters, Navigators and Space Marines, judicious Astropaths and zealous commissars. 

 The group of fourteen men and women stepped out of the large elevator and into a huge hall. Torches dimly lighted the hall, but sodium lamps glowed in the roof, high above their heads. All, except Tanya and Rolf, stopped dead before the sight that met them: two lanes of five metres tall marble or bronze statues, all depicting famous commissars in the glorious service of the Imperium. Charleston let out a low whistle. 

 "And here I've considered them religious lunatics all along..." McGranth whispered. He didn't want Tanya or Rolf hearing him. 

 The group moved down the line of commissars until Tanya stopped before two. One was tall and athletic; the other one was short and stocky. 

 "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Commissar Mischkin and Commissar General Timoschenko. Founders of the Imperial Commissariat." 

 The Terrans looked up at the two statues. The two men seemed very different, but Tanya explained. "They were best friends, united by chance but also a common goal, on the Industrial World Moskva. The statues are nearly half a million years old. Unbelievable, perhaps, but it is true." 

 McKenzie walked forward and read the inscripture on Timoschenko's pedestal. "'Where Mischkin left, Timoschenko took over. The first Imperial Commissar General.' Doesn't seem like a fighter, does he?" 

 "Not quite," Nazz said, frowning. "But then again, he might been the type that's short and chunky, but really strong." She threw a side-ways glance at Eddy. 

 "Yes, I believe he was." Tanya replied. 

 "'Timoschenko took over...'" Edd repeated to himself. "What happened to Mischkin?" 

 "He died of cardiac-cancer." Tanya simply replied. "Before the Imperial Commissariat became what it is today." 

 "How did the Commissariat come to being then?" Marie asked, surprised at her own question. 

 Tanya explained. She told them about the crisis on Moskva, the Narkoms and the Siege of the Winter palace. As she spoke, Charleston, McGranth, McKenzie and Rolf slowly removed themselves from the group and walked down the line of statues. McKenzie stopped at a tall, powerful man. To scale, he would've almost been as tall as Charleston. He looked down on the inscripture. 

 "Commissar General Delane Oktar..." he read. "Enormous guy..." 

 With that, he moved on. 

 Charleston had stopped at the man just next to Oktar. He read the name inscripture, took a few steps back to look at the man's face, and then read the name again. 

 "What's the matter, commander?" McGranth asked, walking up behind his friend. 

 "This guy is almost a joke..." Charleston mumbled. He looked up at the man's face again. McGranth did as Charleston had done; read the name, and then looked at the face. 

 "Oh..." McGranth said silently. "I see..." 

 They both stared up at the blade thin face of the tall and powerful colonel-commissar. Simultaneously, they raised an eyebrow and then looked at each other with dubious looks. Then spoke in unison. "Colonel-commissar Ibram... Gaunt?" 

 "Make's reason for his name..." Charleston said and scratched his nose, trying to suppress a smile. 

 "What a horror to be mocked by your own family name." McGranth said and moved on. 

 "Or the other way around." Charleston said smartly. "Having your family name mocked by your looks." 

 Rolf had stopped by the statue of Sebastian Yarrick. He was looking up at the statue of the old man with ork-designed battle claw and bionic eye, with tears welling in his eyes. McKenzie came up to him. 

 "Rolf, are you alright?" 

 "It's happening again, McKenzie..." Rolf silently mumbled. 

 "Memories?" 

 Rolf nodded. "I just feel pain when I see Sebastian. I know he was slain by Kharn. I've known it for the better part of two years now..." 

 "I know... Wait a second! Two years?" 

 Rolf nodded again. "Don't you remember, I told you so when you patched my arm up." 

 McKenzie looked taken aback. "I must've forgotten... Denied it, even..." He shook his head slightly. "So, these memories, what are they about?" 

 Rolf tried to gather himself enough to speak. The memories had scored deeper wounds than he'd thought or even dared to believe. "I just see a flash of bright light and I feel this stinging pain in my chest. Then I see Sebastian's face as a young lad, no older than I am now... wet with tears..." 

 McKenzie looked down on the ground. He knew what it was about. Not many others knew the true reason to Rolf Yarrick's death. Most Imperial citizens had believed he'd died of age. McKenzie knew that that was a lie, a lie necessary to protect the Imperium from anarchy. He put his hands on Rolf's shoulders and led him back to the rest of the group. Charleston and McGranth had already rejoined them, as Tanya finished her story. 

 She noticed the look in Rolf's eyes immediately. "Maybe we should go back up? You all seem in need of sleep, my friends." She tapped the vox-link attached to her head like a headset. "Tomas, darling, fix thirteen more beds for our friends. Yes, separate rooms for girls and boys, what did you think? Show some decency, man! All right... We'll be back up in 15 minutes. What we've been doing? I've showed them a piece of history. One, out." 

 She looked at the others. "He's really a nice guy, boring, but nice. So, off you go to the lift!" Tanya herded the group back into the lift and they went up. As they came back out up there, they split up in two directions, directed by junior officers of the Guard. Tanya stopped Rolf. 

 "I need to talk to you," she said simply. 

 The two removed themselves soundlessly and seamlessly from the others. 

 "Rolf, what happened down there? You were weeping." 

 "It's a really long story, Tanya. But you know I'm not the original Rolf Yarrick, right?" 

 "Yes, I know that, but how can you weld the sword then?" 

 "I don't know... But see, I still have your ancestor's spirit." 

 "Now I don't understand. What do you mean 'spirit'?" 

 Rolf sighed. "It's a bit hard to explain. But technically speaking, Rolf Yarrick is dead. Psychically, he's not. He lives within me..." 

 Tanya looked shocked. "How's that possible?" 

 "The Eldar had a technique of storing souls in gemstones. McKenzie managed to copy that technique, although crudely. But it was enough to spare the soul of damnation and to let him fight again. He lives on, in me... I believe that's why I can weld the sword..." 

 "And with his soul comes-" 

 "His memories. Yes, Tanya, that's right. And they hurt. They hurt very much. You can't imagine what pain he went through. A Hero of the Imperium, indeed, but he was almost constantly in physical or psychological pain." 

 "Deary me..." 

 Rolf nodded, silent. You need not words any more. Tanya understood perfectly. She was silent for a while, and then looked up in Rolf's eyes. 

 "Maybe you should get to bed." She kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Come, I'll show you to your quarters." 

 Rolf followed obediently, and soon enough, he was fast asleep, just as his friends. 

 Charleston, however, nudged McKenzie lightly, as the other boys were fast asleep. "Edward, wake up!" he whispered. 

 McKenzie groaned and looked round at Charleston. "What?" 

 "Ya know when that Gretchin said that Ghazghkull was killed by Metallix, and so did Tanya." 

 "Mmm, so what?" 

 "The Grot said that it had been on Ichar... But when Tanya spoke about it, it seemed to be on some central world that he got killed. This messes things up for me..." 

 McKenzie was suddenly wide-awake. When information got mismatched, he was soon awake. "You're absolutely right, Ed... Maybe Tanya tries to hide things from us? She didn't even mention that Necrons had gotten to Ichar..." 

 Charleston seemed ponderous for a while. "Maybe... Maybe there was a Necron pyramid under one of Ichar's hives? Armageddon had one in the middle of a jungle... And to a grot, everything is big, right? He could have taken the Necrons leader for Metallix and the Ork Warlords for Ghazghkull and Nazdreg. Easy to mix up, right?" 

 "Good explanation, Ed..." McKenzie mumbled. "But we'll never know the truth, will we. This is just a theory, right?" And a flawed one, McKenzie thought. 

 "Yeah." 

 "Good... Good. Go to sleep now, commander." 

 Charleston did as he was told and rolled over to his other side, and soon enough, he was sleeping too. McKenzie, however, contemplated what truly was the truth for a long while, until he fell asleep without noticing it... 

The morning the next day, McKenzie had taken Johnny out of bed early, as he wanted to avoid problems. McKenzie had a pack with him, which he'd slung over his shoulder. It was full of food for Johnny and him and some other things that McKenzie deemed necessary for Johnny's psychic training. McKenzie was still pondering Charleston's comments from yesterday, when Johnny brought him back to reality on Secondus. 

 "Where are we going, McKenzie?" Johnny asked. 

 "It is time for some serious psyker training on your behalf. So, therefore, we are going a bit away from the base. I'd like it so, as there are rituals and such that blunts aren't meant to know of." 

 "Blunts?" Johnny asked. 

 "Psyker-slang for none-psychic minds. Don't voice it aloud in their presence, okay?" 

 "Sure thing." 

 McKenzie did want to voice that his real reason to conduct the training away from the base was if Johnny accidentally blew something up or, even worse, conjured a deamon. 

 "So," McKenzie said, showing the basket. "We'll be gone most of the day. Won't be back till afternoon. I have the grub, but are you prepared for this, Johnny?" 

 "Yep, all set!" 

 McKenzie smiled softly at the teenager. "Good. Follow me." 

 Johnny followed McKenzie to the motor pool of the big base. It was about a quarter the size of the Death Angel's Armoury, but still immense. There were tanks and other mechanical things strew about, in pieces, everywhere. Tech priests in their murky red robes milled about. Most had at least some sort of mechanical implant. Johnny saw several chatting away with each other in Lingua Technis, their mechadendrites repairing the vehicles they stood by. Mechadendrites was what McKenzie called the octopus-like arms that were attached to the tech priests' bodies. They freaked Johnny out a bit, to say the least. 

 McKenzie moved between the down-mounted tanks and approached the magos in command of the tech priests. To McKenzie's dismay, Masterson was with the half-mechanical magos. 

 "Commissar Masterson, what are you doing here?" McKenzie asked, genuinely surprised at the short commissar's presence. He lost some of his potency next to the powerful magos. 

 "Tough times. We all do what we have to do, and thus I am the military arm supervising that Arilla here does things right." Masterson replied, gesturing to the tech magos. McKenzie greeted himself to the magos, exchanging courtesies in Lingua Technis. 

 "May I ask, Master Lexicanum," Masterson said, wiping sweat from his brow as it was a warm day. "What are you doing here?" 

 McKenzie indicated Johnny in his flowing Eldarain robes. "I'm taking Johnny here for some... training. I will request the use of a bike." 

 "Well, I can't see any..." Magos Arilla began, but was told to shut up by Masterson, who pointed a meaning finger at his brow, as to indicate that both McKenzie and Johnny were psykers. Masterson turned and stared poisonously at McKenzie a minute. Then he picked something up and stalked over to the Master Lexicanum. He held out his arm and pointed the large wrench in it towards McKenzie's chest, as if it was a blade. It almost touched the Marine's chest. 

 "You come back with that in one piece, witch." Masterson snarled. "Anything fall off that bike, I'll pull something off you and not even Arilla here will be able to replace it! Understand?" 

 McKenzie studied the wrench aimed at his chest and raised an eyebrow, before running a hand through his thick black hair. "Very well, then," he said in a calm voice. 

 As McKenzie led the bike out, under the watchful gaze of Masterson, Johnny glanced over his shoulder at the glaring commissar. 

 "Charming type, that Masterson," Johnny whispered. 

 McKenzie dared a glance over his shoulder as they came out, but a truck moved from one end of the machine shop, to the other, luckily obscured Masterson. "No kidding?" he said with a sigh. 

 McKenzie tucked their stuff onto the bike, produced a helmet for Johnny and clicked his own Space Marine helmet in place. A few powerful kicks of the ignition and the twelve hundred cubic centimetre motor roared into life. McKenzie knew how to do things and soon the two were off at an alarming speed. McKenzie liked high speed. As they sped along, he couldn't help himself but to think of his BMW on Terra. 

 I miss the BMW, he thought. Wonder if it is possible to make a copy here? I miss the feeling it had. This bike, give its due, is fine, but it has no true... feeling. 

 McKenzie shook the thought away and concentrated on driving. They soon enough reached their destination, as McKenzie preferred to keep at a speed of a hundred kilometres per hour. McKenzie had studied several maps the night before, just before bed, and found the perfect spot, nearly twenty kilometres from the main base. It looked, from the air, like a shallow bowl about seven hundred metres across. There were several fair-sized boulders strewn about in the pit. At the northern part of the pit, the gentle slope of the pit became a steep wall from which a waterfall fell. The water from it collected at the bottom of the pit. A small stream ran from the pond, due south, and ran through the south slope of the pit where a small wooded area took the pit's place. As to compensate the cliff on the north, the south part had no slope upwards, though downwards. 

 "Perfect," McKenzie said silently to himself as he removed his helmet. He turned to Johnny. "We're here, Johnny. Unload your gear and we'll start." 

 Johnny did as he was told and was soon ready. McKenzie led Johnny to a clear area in the pit. 

 "The first thing every psyker has to learn is to ward off daemons. And the only way to learn that is to live through the real thing: possession." McKenzie put unnecessary stress on that last word, but he got the desired effect. Johnny winced slightly. 

 McKenzie sat down best he could in his power armour and made the sign of the Aquila as he intoned an Imperial Litany of protection upon himself. He then closed his eyes and started murmuring in a tongue Johnny did not like one bit. McKenzie suddenly made a sweeping gesture towards Johnny, as if pointing guilt to him. The young Terran suddenly felt he wasn't alone in his head anymore. There was another presence in it. It had a strange voice. Sugar sweet but hoarse at the same time. 

 "_Hello there_," it spoke. Johnny shuddered. It was cold, soulless. 

 "_Sweet little Johnny_," the voice whispered. "_I am prepared to give you whatever you want, just ask, and I will grant you that. Want money? I'll give you that. Want a longer life? I can grant that too_." 

 McKenzie suddenly brought Johnny from his reverie with the strange voice. "Fight the voice, Johnny. It is the voice of a Tzeentchian deamon. Fight it, Johnny!" 

 "_Don't listen to him. What can he give you? What can he do_?" the voice continued. "_He's afraid of you, Johnny. He's afraid you'll become a greater warrior than him. A greater psyker than him! He doesn't want that. But I can help you rid the world of such a coward. I can make you achieve whatever goals you want. I can wake your slumbering powers, but that fool McKenzie wants not to!_" 

 "Fight it, Johnny!" McKenzie's voice rang out to Johnny from an eternity away it seemed. "Fight it, Emperor damn it! Fight it!!" 

 "_He claims to be your friend," the voice continued to whisper in Johnny's mind. "He's not. He wants to stop your powers from evolving. But I am your friend, no? I want you to become powerful, but he doesn't_." 

 "Frekkfrekkfrekkfrekk!" McKenzie swore from somewhere. "Fight, damn it! You won't ever get a second chance if you fail, Johnny! He wants nothing but your soul!" 

 "_He's not your true friend_," the voice continued calmly, soothingly. "_But I, I am your true friend, isn't that so_?" 

 Johnny seemed to come to a conclusion in his ravaged mind. "No," he said quietly, but very firmly. "My true friend is not you! It is not you, deamon filth!!" 

 The presence in his mind recoiled a few seconds, but soon came back. It didn't speak soothingly now. It screamed, wordless screams mixed with a cursed language, and it tore and bit at Johnny's mind. Impossible pain, incorporeal pain, raged through Johnny's head as the deamon attacked again and again, trying to weaken the resolve of the human's mind. But Johnny endured; fighting the etherworlder back, knowing what awaited if he was to give in. He felt the deamon at the very borders of his mind as he fought it back. McKenzie's mind was suddenly there again, and he once again spoke in the cursed tongue of Tzeentch. 

 "**An'du ssa'ade Gzoag'gilph'ulfduak**!" McKenzie roared and the deamon disappeared. Johnny fell to the ground, but McKenzie was soon beside him, pouring water into the young lad's mouth. 

 "Was that a real deamon?" Johnny whispered. He felt drained, worn and generally out of sorts. 

 "Yes, a lesser one. I am amazed that you were able to withstand its temptation without any training whatsoever." 

 "What was that you spoke?" Johnny asked as he regained somewhat. 

 "Tzeentchian..." McKenzie looked around. "It is always good to know some. Most Librarians shun it utmost, but I'm not so orthodox in my ways. Some Dark Tongue is always useful. I have banished many a deamon by uttering a banishment curse in the Dark Tongue and their true names." 

 "Was that name its real name?" Johnny asked astonished. "What did it mean?" 

 "I can't really tell you that, as there aren't human words for it. Though the name it hides behind in this realm is easier understood: Pain Wight." 

 Johnny nodded his assertion. The two sat silent for a long while. 

 "Now," McKenzie broke the silence between the two. "We shall go on to the next level. You have already shown you possess some knowledge in telekinesis. Let's see how it is in the reverse. To attack with psychic force." 

 "How do you do that?" Johnny asked interested. 

 "Like this," McKenzie said and without warning a large force swept Johnny off his feet and he landed several metres away from McKenzie. The tall, slender Marine walked over to the prone Terran. "That is what I mean with offensive psychics." 

 "Wow!" Johnny exclaimed. "What a ride! How did you do that?" 

 McKenzie just tapped his forehead. "I can perform such menial things as that with a nudge of my head, but you'll need words and moves, Johnny. Until you reach a higher degree of power, that is. Then you might just nudge your head to send your enemies sprawling." 

 "So, what's the word?" Johnny asked eagerly. 

 "Many Imperial psykers of lesser power use High Gothic, though I prefer Eldar, as it gives a better effect. And it is what I'll teach you. The word is '_ruuma_' and you must focus on the objective to be forced back." 

 "Alright," Johnny said and turned and held his hand out towards one of the smaller rocks. "_Ruuma_!" he shouted and the rock did move, though not far. 

 "Don't be disheartened, Johnny," McKenzie said happily. "No-one can do it the first time they try. It is always try, try, and try again. One more, and some more force into the word." 

 Johnny nodded sternly and focused all his will into his outstretched arm. "**_RUUMA_**!" he shouted and the rock flew backwards, knocking into another, larger rock and splitting in half. 

 "Not bad!" McKenzie said and grinned. "Not bad at all." McKenzie paused and Johnny saw how he fixated the large rock that had been banged. A few seconds later, it cracked open like an egg. 

 "Imagine that to be an enemy's skull, Johnny, and you will get some measure of what power we possess," McKenzie said grimly. The Marine walked down to the pond and Johnny followed obediently. McKenzie stopped by the shore to the pond and extended a hand. What Johnny saw happening, he scarcely believed. The water in the pond suddenly raised upwards, turning and twisting in impossible forms. It took Johnny a while to realise, but McKenzie was forming a gigantic water-serpent with the fluid, like a sculpture. McKenzie turned to Johnny. 

 "Although we psykers are extreme warriors when put to it, most of us prefer to lead quiet lives and to develop other skills than those of war." McKenzie spoke softly, without strain. This didn't take much of his concentration it seemed. McKenzie suddenly pulled back his hand with a snap and raised the other hand. A ball of water came out of the pond. It hovered before the water-serpent a few moments, until McKenzie sent the ball flying straight into the serpent, shattering both in a cascade of water. The serpent sunk back into the water with a splash that made Johnny's robes wet all the way up to the knees. 

 "You try," McKenzie said simply. 

 Johnny nodded and focused. It was all a matter of focusing your will to one point. Johnny had realised that early on. But it was much harder than it seemed. 

 "Try whispering the words 'linque oro'," McKenzie whispered softly. 

 Johnny uttered the Eldarain words silently and the water began to rise. He could not form a serpent, but he made one big sphere of it. On McKenzie's command, he let it go and it fell back with a splash far greater than McKenzie's. It showered them both with water. Johnny found himself with robes soaked in water and that clung distressingly to his armour. McKenzie wiped his wet hair from his face. 

 "We might need to practice on that part a bit..." he said and smiled warmly. McKenzie walked a few paces away from the pond and sat down, cross-legged, wringing his hair of water. He motioned to Johnny to take a seat opposite to him. 

 "Now what?" Johnny asked eagerly. He wanted to know more. 

 "Telepathy and scanning," McKenzie said and grinned. 


	6. ED of the Navigator part 2

Back at the base at the same time, the rest of the group had gathered in a training area just a few hundred metres from the main billeting. Charleston wasn't present as he was off overseeing the flipping over and hauling of the Nighthawk, or whatever was left of it. So, that left McGranth, the Terrans and Commissar Colonel Demontfurt. They all walked into the training area. 

 McGranth and Demontfurt gathered the others in a ring to surround them. The faced the young Terrans. The only ones who seemed comfortable were the Eds and, peculiarly, Rolf. 

 "Listen up," McGranth spoke clearly. "If you lot are going to be of any use to us on the battlefield, it's time for a refresher course in the finer points of combat." 

 The Eds silently concluded that the Grand Commander mostly meant close combat. 

 "Alright," Demontfurt said and gestured over his shoulder. "First, we'll start with target practice, then we'll proceed to the finer parts of glorious close combat. But first, the target training." 

 The Terrans now firstly took in the training area. It was a barren place, except for a few wrecks of spent tanks and old buildings. They all stood in the centre of the area. Every one of them had left their weapons behind, except Rolf, whom stoically refused to leave the Yarrickian Sword behind. 

 A couple of Adeptus Mechanicus Techpriests came up. They all had servitors to help them. Most Terrans cringed at the sight of the mindless half-humans. One of the servitors was carrying a large crate. It put it down on the ground next to Demontfurt and the commissar took off the lid of the crate. He handed out a lasgun to each and every youngster along with a lasclip. They all knew how to mount the clips after the incident with Necrontyr on Armageddon. 

 One of the techpriests approached the group and showed what he was holding in his hands. Demontfurt explained what the curious little metal ball was. 

 "This here, my dear friends, is a target drone." 

 The techpriest pushed a button hid somewhere on its metal surface. It came to life and the techpriest let go of it. It floated up in the air and took in its surroundings, seemingly planning already. It hung there in the air, lazily. 

 Demontfurt didn't speak this time, the techpriest did. "They are held up with magnetic hover systems. I doubt you've encountered this technology before." There was tad contempt in the skinny man's voice. "We have primed several of these around here. They are programmed to randomly go online and take a course through the air over the area, not more than two metres above the ground." The techpriest fell silent and looked at the lone drone in front of the Terrans. "Yokor," he said softly and the little drone zoomed off to hide. 

 "You will attempt to shoot these suckers down," Demontfurt said. "Before they get out of range for your low charge las. The overall score is how many you take down minus the ones you miss. You have fifteen minutes each." Demontfurt took up one of his own laspistols and put the power setting low. "Lower your weapons power setting like this. If you hit someone by accident, it'll only sting a few second, so it won't be lethal." 

 "Unless," McGranth said and smiled warmly. "Unless of course, you hit Commissar Demontfurt or me. Then it might prove lethal... for you." 

 The Terrans laughed nervously. Demontfurt smiled too. 

 "Okay," he said genially. "Who's first?" 

 Rolf stepped forward. "I am," he said curtly. With that, the others removed themselves from the centre of the area and Rolf pulled out the lasgun. He tensed, trying to sense where it would come. Some part of him had done this for fun hundreds of times before. It was so easy, it told him. 

 The drone came up behind him. Rolf spun around lightly and nailed it as if it was nothing. Not a single time did Rolf miss the target drone. 

 In time, they all had shots. Rolf and Eddy tied for the best, although Eddy admitted he felt slightly awkward without the kick that a storm bolter delivered. The target practice continued with them all. Demontfurt coached them, McGranth coming with encouraging words. And with the two's coaching, everybody soon did fairly well, even Nazz, who had surprised them all with a good eye. 

 "My grandfather was a crack shot," she admitted when Demontfurt asked. "He taught me a little when I was a little child." 

 The only one, who didn't show up as a careful aim as the others, was Ed. This was no surprise to McGranth, who'd lived through Charleston's sloppy aim for centuries. Demontfurt and McGranth were just happy the powerful young man was wielding a low-power las and not the bolter that was his battlefield weapon. 

 After a while, Demontfurt informed them they were done. They handed back the lasguns to the techpriest. The robed man also called back all target drones with a single word in Lingua Technis. With that, he left the area. 

 "Okay," McGranth said cheerfully. "After a bit of rest, we'll go on to unarmed hand to hand training." 

 The group gathered ten minutes later in a room with a floor covered in a fairly tough mat. It was obvious this was a training room of sorts. McGranth ordered them to sit down by the long edge of the mat and stood himself in the middle of it. The tall, thin techpriest came back with a servitor following behind. The half-human seemed to be malfunctioning, because it seemed to have some sort of tics. The techpriest left the faulty servitor at the centre of the mat together with McGranth and left hastily, ordering the servitor to stay with a single word. 

 Seeing the techpriest had left, McGranth went into a fighting stance. Five swift blows later the servitor lay leaking oil from a hole in its chest. The techpriest came back with two other, correctly functioning servitors and removed the wreck. 

 The Terrans stared at McGranth. It was not what he'd done with the servitor that shocked them so. It was how swiftly he'd moved to place and make those punches he'd thrown connect. Too swift for Tactical Dreadnought armour. 

 "That, my friends, is how we do it Ichar way," McGranth said with a wry smile. "However, the servitor didn't fight back, but an enemy will. Get up, and I'll show you some nice techniques. I'll tech you how to attack, evade and compensate for a larger enemy." 

 The group got up and stood before McGranth. He showed them a series of punches and swipes to copy. This kept on going for about twenty minutes. It appeared to the Terrans that what they were training in was something that seemed like a bastardisation of several martial arts. 

 After this, McGranth split them all up in fairly equal groups so they could practice against another human. The only one who had trouble at first was Nazz, but Demontfurt encouraged her best he could, being, after all, a commissar and there to oversee the morale of the troops. So it was that even Nazz got the hang of unarmed fighting. One well-aimed punch laid Kevin flat, wind knocked out of him. 

 Ed was doing best of all the boys it seemed, his incredible strength giving him an undeniable edge. However, much to McGranth's exasperation, he staunchly refused to fight Nazz or any of the Kankers. His mom didn't want him to fight girls and that was that. 

 Eddy and Kevin seemed evenly matched, and this bothered Eddy. He had after all seen more action than Kevin. Eddy had for crying out loud defeated a Khornate Berzerker Terminator squad and a deamon prince single-handedly. That Kevin matched him gave his ego a dent. 

 Edd, on the other hand, had an inner dilemma of mastodont proportions. He could easily predict the others' moves and avoid them and counter-attack, but he wanted this fight for himself as well. The end result was that he didn't do as well as McGranth had been hoping. 

 However, the Kankers easily dominated the whole scene, mixing brute force with technique. Even the wiry and agile Rolf was put to shame, who after all was second only to Ed amongst the boys. But one thing puzzled Demontfurt. The three sisters seemed very equal, too equal even for sisters. But he decided not to bother too much over thus. 

 The group moved out of the training room again but not before Demontfurt demonstrated an elegant back flip, despite his late thirties. All the Terrans applauded this; except Rolf, who got something dark in his eyes. 

 They moved back to the area where they had tested their firing skills. Demontfurt lifted the lid off a box that the techpriests had left behind and picked up the long, silvery blade from it. He frowned at its apparent lack of perfect balance, but swung deftly with it in the air a few times to get used to the weight. Then he turned to the Terrans. 

 "As you can see, it is time for hand weapons training. You will each take a sword from the batch here-" 

 "Can't I use my lightning claw instead?" Eddy interrupted. 

 "No, and that's an order," McGranth snapped. "We'll all be equal in this fight. You'll all use the monomolecular edged swords in that crate." 

 "We'll hardly be equal in battle..." Eddy muttered. 

 McGranth didn't take notice of the remark. He was fixing Rolf with a hard stare. "That means that you won't be fighting with that sword, Rolf," McGranth said softly. 

 "Go ahead, make my day..." Rolf muttered sourly. 

 "You know, Rolf, it will hardly be fair towards the others if you use that blade," McGranth replied. "So be a nice boy and take a monomol-sword." 

 Muttering, Rolf put down his sword in its sheath in the crate and replaced it with a monomolecular sword instead. 

 Once again, McGranth split them into smaller groups and after a bit of instruction from Demontfurt's side, they began clashing blade to blade. Demontfurt had showed them how to blunt the edges mechanically so they wouldn't harm each other. 

 To everyone's surprise, Nazz did really well. With a slight blush on her cheeks, she told them that she'd begun with fencing lessons, much like Rolf. Although, with a bit of extra instruction from Demontfurt, who was a registered sword master, she soon held her own without problem. Once again, Eddy and Kevin came out equals. Ed came out a tad worse than Edd, who'd given in to the temptations and used his psychics, although barely at all. It came without questioning that Rolf was dominant in every aspect. Not a sword scratched his body. The Kankers, however, had a bit of trouble. They were masters at bare-hand brawling, but armed combat wasn't really their cup of tea. This disheartened them a tad, but Demontfurt promised to instruct them and coach them best he could, as he'd done with Nazz. At this, the three sisters cheered up considerably. 

 When all the monomolecular edged swords had been put back into the crate, Rolf approached Demontfurt. The powerful commissar looked quizzically at the young man. 

 "What if we try at each other, commissar?" Rolf asked calmly, almost chillingly. 

 "What?" Demontfurt said bewildered. 

 "You heard me perfectly clear," Rolf said softly. 

 Demontfurt shrugged. He didn't like were this was heading, for some reason. 

 "But this time," Rolf said with a wolfish smile on his lips. "We use our own weapons of choice." He drew the ancient deamon slayer blade and stood in a battle stance. Demontfurt, unable to resist a challenge and having a reputation to think of, took the hike and pulled out two silver gleaming swords from their sheathes by his waist. 

 "First blood?" Demontfurt asked. 

 "First, as you say, blood," Rolf replied. 

 The two flew at each other with a battle shout each and a split second later, the air was filled with the metal clang when steel meets steel. They whirled and parried each and every blow the other one delivered. When Demontfurt thrust forward, trying to use his superior momentum to bring the young man off guard, Rolf dodged and struck at Demontfurt from another angle. Demontfurt drew up his blade to parry the, to him, clumsy attack. Just before Rolf's sword would hit one of Demontfurt's, Rolf would twist it and bring it in from another angle. And so it went on. Rolf evaded every trick Demontfurt tried and Demontfurt parried every blow of Rolf's. Demontfurt was backed up by years of experience, skill and artisanship whilst Rolf was fighting through the spirit and memories of a true Imperial Hero. It looked long as the two were as good. 

 Then Demontfurt found and unguarded opening in Rolf's guard after one too clumsy swing. The colonel-commissar thrust forward with his both swords. Alas, Rolf saw the impetuosity of the move and took his chance. He deftly brought the sword up in a two-handed grip and thrust downwards, using his superior height to its maximum. 

 Their blades scratched each other's skins at the exact same time. Demontfurt felt the tip of the Yarrickian sword at his chest; something wet trickling down between his chest hairs. Rolf felt the cold steel of two single-edged swords at his throat and how they cut his skin slightly. 

 Equals. 

 "That birdie won't fly again," Charleston said with a nonchalant gesture as he walked up to the group of people in the area. He was referring to the Night Hawk. "The only things that still function as they should are the lasguns and one engine and why do everybody look like bird's houses?" 

 Charleston had noticed the shocked looks on everybody's faces. He got an eerie feeling they were looking straight through him. He turned round and saw Demontfurt and young Rolf in a stance that suggested something of a fight had been happening. 

 "Oh, I see..." Charleston mumbled silently as he saw the two men locked in combat pose. 

 Johnny stood in the middle of the pit. His eyes were closed, Niire was held firmly in his right hand whilst his left hand was clenched tightly. A few of the runes on his armour glowed, the glow circling around from rune to rune in a pattern. Niire shone with a dull, blue light as well. It was silent, so silent. Johnny flexed his mind. Taking in the surroundings, he tried to 'see' his opponent. Nothing yet. The Master Lexicanum wasn't lazing around with him then. 

 Then, he spun round, a metallic clang resounding in the air of Secondus. McKenzie jumped backwards, raising his blade to charge again. McKenzie deftly parried a psychic charge on Johnny's behalf and countered with something very much alike. The psychic beam hit Johnny's blade full on, throwing him backwards through the air. Johnny never opened his eyes and with a simple mental command, he stopped in the air and landed on the ground again. With inhuman speed, the youngster sprung forth and attacked the seasoned psyker. McKenzie easily blocked Johnny's over-eager strokes and sent him flying backwards with a wrist-flick. Johnny was however soon back in close combat with McKenzie. 

 All the time, Johnny had his eyes closed. When McKenzie made a swipe that was to cut Johnny's head clear from his shoulders, Johnny raised a gloved hand and caught the force sword in his palm. McKenzie relaxed and Johnny opened his eyes. 

 "You're getting better," McKenzie said. 

 "You're still holding back," Johnny replied with a scowl. "You can go harder on me, y'know." 

 "I could, perhaps. But, had I gone all out, you'd be in pieces now, Johnny-boy. Besides, you're too eager. That blade, Ilsa Niire Hyandar, is no ordinary blade. It has been made by Eldar, remember that." 

 "But what makes it so special, eh?" 

 "Johnny, every thing that the Eldar create has a soul, know that. And if a thing has a soul, it has feelings and with feelings comes temper." 

 Johnny stared at the silvery blade in his hand. "You're kidding." He saw McKenzie's look and realised that McKenzie was dead serious. 

 "Now," McKenzie said after a moment of silence. "We shall go on to another kind of attack. I see you can perform some of it; alas you are far from a master. Can you guess?" 

 "Psychic beams and lightning and stuff, right?" 

 McKenzie nodded. He held out his right arm, palm open. "It is a simple matter; just focus the energy of the Warp into something tangible." He curled his fingers inwards slightly and a blue glowing energy ball appeared in his hand. "When it reaches something I call critical mass, you mustn't forget to release it." 

 McKenzie let the ball grow slightly and then seemingly tossed it towards a rock. The psychic ball seemed to go inside of the rock. A few seconds later, the rock exploded. "Now, I put a delay on it, so it exploded inside. Usually, the ball disintegrates as soon as it hits something physical." 

 McKenzie turned to Johnny. "You try now." 

 Johnny did as McKenzie had done. He held his arm out, palm open, curled his fingers inwards. It took slightly longer for Johnny's ball to start forming than McKenzie's, but it was formed, and that was the point. Johnny raised his hand and tossed the ball towards a rock. The ball exploded as it his the rock, though it didn't cause more than a medium size hole in the rock. 

 McKenzie nodded. "Pretty good, pretty good. Don't be afraid to hold it longer, Johnny. I'm here to help, you know it." 

 Once again, Johnny repeated the process. The ball he threw this time was fairly larger and it flew faster as well. It shattered a smaller rock into pebbles. 

 "One more time, Johnny-boy, with even more power," McKenzie urged. 

 Johnny did as told once again, and a third time a ball of psychics showed up in his palm. However, it showed up much easier and it grew much larger than the other two. 

 "Don't forget to release, Johnny," McKenzie reminded, no feelings showing in his voice. 

 But Johnny didn't release. He remained in the stance of charging up and the psychic ball just grew bigger and bigger. 

 "Johnny, release!" McKenzie urged, concern showing in his voice. He stepped closer to the youngster. 

 "I can't move..." Johnny muttered forth. McKenzie shot the ball a glance and felt a headache creeping on him. It was far too big now. It had gone beyond critical mass. 

 "Oh dear..." McKenzie said silently and jumped without warning against the psychic ball in Johnny's hands. With an enormous amount of will and psychic force, McKenzie tore the ball from Johnny's hand and threw it far away. It flew with a speed McKenzie thought was impossible even for light. 

 He grabbed the young man around his waist and dove for cover. 

 The high-energy ball finally hit something and exploded. McKenzie felt his gut churn at the force of the shockwave. He could almost see the blue mushroom cloud the explosion had caused with his psychic vision. Then he felt the sudden silence and opened his eyes. He looked up from behind the rock he'd been crouching with Johnny and felt debris raining down on him. McKenzie also saw the destruction the explosion had caused. 

 "Okay," he said, raising an eyebrow. "We'll work on that one." 

 Johnny flopped down on his back, utterly exhausted. 

 "You alright?" McKenzie asked, looking down on him. 

 "I'm fine. Just tired," Johnny replied, trying to calm his breathing. 

 "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," McKenzie said but soon realised that this boy was going nowhere, as tired as he seemed. 

 McKenzie soon reached the crater that the explosion had caused. The earth was scorched black. McKenzie looked around, but couldn't find the bike anywhere. 

 "Frekk..." he mumbled. "Masterson is going to kill me..." He then saw Plank, resting against the tree where Johnny had put him. 'It,' McKenzie reminded himself. The wooden piece of... wood seemed unharmed, strangely enough, despite the enormous blast. He picked Plank up and walked back to Johnny. 

 "Well," McKenzie said, handing Plank over to Johnny. "Your friend is alright, but there's not a scrap left of the bike. The ball must've been magnetic, or something..." McKenzie saw Johnny's pained expression. 

 "I am cooked..." Johnny muttered silently. 

 "Don't worry about it, Johnny," McKenzie comforted. "I'll take the heat for you. Now, come on, we will be doing good in getting back." 

 McKenzie picked up the boy in his arms and turned towards where they had come from. This would take a fair amount of his power... 

 Then he started to run. Using his immense psychic force to augment his human body, McKenzie reached a speed that shouldn't be feasible for a human body. Jessie Owens would've reached it, but not kept it, so to speak. 

 After a few kilometres, McKenzie's attention was drawn to a Thunderhawk flying overhead. McKenzie saw easily that it was heading towards the same place as him. It was painted in Navy blue, with a golden Imperial Aquila on each side. However, the double eagle was surrounded by nine red dots, which formed a circle. The Master Lexicanum felt puzzled. He had never before seen this insignia. 

 He thrust on with his mind a little more, reducing friction around him, putting him at a speed that would give a thoroughbred horse a run for its money. 

 Back at the main camp, the Thunderhawk landed on its designated landing pad. Although not uninvited, it still attracted a large amount of attention. Tanya called up an Honour Guard of Guardsmen and was soon joined by McGranth, Charleston, Demontfurt and the Terrans. As the big transport settled down, Demontfurt called to attention amongst the troopers. 

 The ramp at the nose of the plane slowly lowered itself down, hydraulics hissing. There was a fair amount of steam blowing around it, revealing it had just left the upper and colder layers of the atmosphere. 

 A voice was suddenly heard from inside. 

 "Can't this darned thing open any faster?" 

 A man appeared at the top of the ramp, trying to squeeze out. The ramp had lowered a few centimetres further when he finally managed to squeeze his lean body through the gap and landed on the ground with a muffled thud. He easily picked himself up and dusted off his coat and the knees of his trousers and then proceeded to walk over to the group of men and women. 

 Now the Terrans got a good look of him. He was in his mid-twenties, a tad shorter than Tanya and had a slight uppish nose in his handsome face. His hair was light brown, but there was a strange, bluish hue underneath it. The young man was wearing a black tunic and trousers made of wool. On his feet were sturdy military boots, immaculately polished. Over all this he wore a brown long coat that he kept open, but still tied together at the waist. 

 "Emperor," he sighed, "it's about time I-" 

 He stopped abruptly the moment he caught sight of the sword in Rolf's hand. Rolf hadn't thought on putting it back after his face-off with Demontfurt. The newly arrived man walked over to Rolf and looked up into the Terran's eyes. Rolf saw that this man had emerald green eyes just like himself. 

 "So it is true..." the man mumbled and looked down from Rolf's eyes to the Yarrickian sword. 

 Then, he suddenly bent down on one knee, closed his eyes, took the sword blade in his hand and kissed it. Rolf looked bewildered, but dared not move as he could cut the man. 

 The young man opened his eyes, got up and walked over to Tanya. Tanya lovingly put both her hands on each side of the man's cheeks and kissed him a few times. It was fairly obvious that the young man didn't enjoy this treatment. 

 "I've missed you too," he said when Tanya had finished. "Honestly, mother, why couldn't you take two minutes and send me a message and tell me, eh?" 

 "M-Mother?" McGranth stammered. "Uh..." 

 Demontfurt saw what was about to happen and pulled himself together. "May I present; Bastion Yarrick, Head of the Civilian High Council." 

 Everyone present nodded his or her assertion of this mark of rank. Charleston, however, had been having his thoughts elsewhere. 

 "What are the nine dots around the Aquila for, eh?" 

 "Oh," Demontfurt said and turned to look at the huge Marine, "those symbolize the nine members of the High Council. A bit like ministers of departments really... If you remember how Moskva was ruled?" 

 "Oh, believe me," Charleston replied, "I do." 

 A winded McKenzie jogging into the landing field, Johnny still on his back, interrupted the entire scene. Panting hard to catch his breath, McKenzie put Johnny down. The boy ran over to his cul-de-sac friends immediately, dying to tell them of his training. Rolf was the only one to shy away from him. McKenzie saw it clearly. A tiny feeling at the back of his head told him that McGranth was looking at him intently. McKenzie turned round and faced his commander. 

 "Do I even want to ask, McKenzie?" McGranth said and sighed. 

 McKenzie was just about to reply, when McGranth instead received his answer from another part of the compound. It came in the form of a loud yell that echoed against the buildings. 

 "**WHERE IS HE!?**" 

 Demontfurt looked towards where it had come from. He could discern it despite the echoes and he'd heard it before. "Uh oh," he mumbled and bit his lip slightly. "This is the part where you put yourself in safety in a bomb shelter, Master Lexicanum," Demontfurt said, turning to McKenzie. 

 However, it was too late for that. Masterson came storming up, the large wrench in his hand. McKenzie idly wondered if he'd ever put it down since they'd left. And thinking such idle thought was the only way for him to keep his composure as the burly little commissar walked up and stood with his legs wide apart just in front of McKenzie. 

 "YOU!" Masterson snarled and slapped the wrench in his hand. It made a wet, pulpy sound as it hit the palm, a sound that made Nazz flinch. 

 Masterson went out of the stance and stood one foot before the other and held out the wrench towards McKenzie again. The big difference was that this time it actually touched McKenzie's nose. The Master Lexicanum fought hard to keep his cool. Why in the God-Emperor's name was this little man frightening him so? He was himself a Space Marine. He was more than able to pulp his head with his bare hands. He could even do it with his mind only. But still... 

 "I give you an attack bike," Masterson said slowly, trying to suppress his rage, "and now somebody comes and tells me that you've come walking back into the camp." 

 "Well... not really walking..." McKenzie admitted. 

 "SHUT UP!" Masterson snarled. "All I want to know is..." The short commissar made a pause, drew breath and... "WHERE THE HELL IS MY BIKE?" 

 This sudden burst actually made McKenzie take a step back, losing his precious little composure. Tanya walked up to Masterson now and put a hand on his shoulder. 

 "Tomas, enough!" she said, softly but flatly. "One bike isn't that much, now, is it?" 

 Masterson turned and looked with flaring eyes on the commissar general. He did in fact lose some of his anger looking into her eyes, but soon regained it with a glance at McKenzie. "It does, to me..." he muttered and fixed McKenzie with a stare that was as warm and friendly as a target laser. 

 "W-well," McKenzie stammered slightly as he spoke, "you see, Commissar Masterson, there was this minor mishap-" 

 The Cadet Commissar named Jorun rudely cut off McKenzie's explanation. The gawky young man ran up to Tanya and ripped off a salute. 

 "Ma'am," he reported, "we've received a message from the monitoring stations. A Scythe class Harvester ship accompanied by several Jackal class escorts have entered system half an hour ago." 

 Tanya looked shocked. "Estimated power of land forces?" 

 "Most certainly around 500 warriors," Jorun said, looking extremely uncomfortable, "but that's excluding Immortals, Destroyers and Tomb Spyders, of course..." 

 "Of course," Masterson sneered. He hadn't much in stall for Jorun ever reaching commissar rank. 

 "Where are they heading?" Tanya asked, ignoring Masterson and gently removing the wrench from his hands. 

 "Callidus, ma'am," Jorun answered. "We only have a few companies of Battle Sisters and-" 

 "I know full well our forces on Callidus, Jorun!" Tanya snapped. She threw a quick side-ways glance at Bastion. "They could've been able to stand alone..." she muttered. "Colonel-commissar Masterson! Make yourself useful and order a red alert. All able-bodied men and women are to make themselves ready for embarkment within half an hour! We have ourselves a Necron raiding force!" 

 Masterson left at a jog, shouting order all around him. 

 Tanya turned to Jorun. "Jorun! ETA of the Necrontyr to Callidus?" 

 "Four hours, ma'am!" the twitchy cadet replied. 

 "It's gonna be a tight run, I believe..." Bastion muttered and Tanya nodded. 

 "Man..." Eddy sighed, "When it rains, it pours..." 

 Tanya looked up at the assembled men and women. "You should get ready too. There are Thunderhawks for you to board. We'll rendezvous on Mishkin's Pride." With that, the commissar general left them. Demontfurt was also gone, as well as Bastion. 

 "You'd better do as she orders," Jorun said and showed the thirteen away to another Thunderhawk." 

 Half an hour later, most of the PDF of Secondus had settled in on transport ships. The Eds and company gathered at the bridge of the huge Vanquisher class battleship; Mishkin's Pride. As promised, Tanya showed up on the battleship, as well as Masterson, Demontfurt and Bastion. 

 Mishkin's Pride was far from alone. Several small cruisers as well as groups of frigates and destroyers accompanied it. McKenzie looked out one of the many view ports and saw two of the cruisers. A Gothic class and a Tyrant class, he decided. He could even read the names of them. The many lances that distinguished the Gothic class one nearly obscured the name "Sword of Moskva". The Tyrant class was painted black, trimmed with gold, almost invisible against the space. However, the stubby barrels of its numerous plasma batteries glittered in the light from approaching Thunderhawks. But he could still see its name. "Timoschenko's Will". 

 "They are beautiful, aren't they not, Master Lexicanum?" a voice said suddenly. McKenzie turned round and saw a tall, powerful man. He was wearing an immaculate admiral's uniform, his red hair cut severe. He had a slightly too heavy nose, which spoiled his otherwise good looks. McKenzie also noticed the rich dialect with its rolling Rs. This man was a born Moskvanian. 

 "Of course they are, Admiral...?" McKenzie said as he took the man's hand and shook it. He felt a bionic's rigid structure underneath the white glove. 

 "Ourmnoff," he replied. "Admiral Ivan Ourmnoff." 

 "Admiral," Tanya said as she strolled up to him, "would mind taking us to Callidus? We have urgent matters there." 

 "I have heard," Ourmnoff replied. He blew a short, hard whistle, and a long-limbed young man ran up to him, saluting. 

 "Sir?" 

 "Lieutenant Romanov, order embarkment for Callidus. They seem to have a... situation there." 

 "Ay, sir!" The wiry lieutenant set off and gave his orders. 

 "Now," Ourmnoff turned to Tanya and McKenzie. "Shall we join the others in the briefing room?" 

 "Of course, my dear admiral," Tanya said and smiled and let the slightly pompous admiral escort her to the briefing room. McKenzie followed behind. 

 Once inside the briefing room, the eighteen men and women settled down. A servitor drone brought forth a hololithic display for Callidus and Tanya stood up. As she introduced Demontfurt to Ourmnoff, McKenzie was struck by a thought. He leant closer to Ourmnoff when Tanya had finished. 

 "Excuse me, admiral," he whispered, "that fleet out there is awfully small, for being commanded by an admiral. With all due respect." 

 "It was a much bigger fleet before the Necrons came. Now, this is what is left of Battle Fleet Moskva." 

 "_Mon Empereur_..." McKenzie blew out in a low whistle. He knew precious little low-Armageddonian, but relished in what he knew. 

 "Gentlemen," Tanya interrupted, "please listen up. We have a battle plan to prepare. We will only have one shot, as you all know." 


	7. The Guardians of EDkind

The Guardians of EDkind

"Forces united - forces arise

Legions of iron descent from the skies

Dark knight - you'll never defeat

The immortal spirit of freedom"

**--Bridge in Iron Savior's Forces of Rage**

 Callidus is the third habitable world of the Secondus system. It is the one closest to Betelgeuse and thus the one with the most humid climate. This climate is nigh on perfect for agri-culture, and that is what Callidus is entirely given over to. Being the agri-cultural world that supplies both Ichar and Secondus, Callidus has a central role in Imperial history. Immense resources have through time been given over to protect this one world, for should Callidus fall, the food supplies to the Imperium's heart is severed. 

 Despite this, Callidus is an agri-cultural world that can look after itself. It has rather meagre populace of roughly 40 million (the Imperium is rigorous to keep this number as Callidus can't house more people), but Callidus has a powerful PDF as well as that they have supplied the Imperial Guard with some of the best and most hardy soldiers ever. However, not even 500,000 people are engaged with the Callidussian army, and thus the vast majority of Callidus' population are farmers. 

 As the majority are farmers, Callidus can't be governed like, say Armageddon with all its guilds and nobles, right? No, Callidus is split up in roughly 30 counties, city-states, of which the most prolific are County Vindaree, County Herkan, County Invas and County Kernas. These four all have different reasons for their fame. 

 County Vindaree is where the capital lies and it is the leading county. This is the seat for the Imperial Commander of Callidus. It is also the place for Callidus' only spaceport. 

 County Herkan is notable, for the fact that it is the largest county and that it is entirely made up of islands and archipelagos. It is also from here that it is believed that Commissar General Chomaki had his heritage. It is known that he was Callidussian, but it will never be known as to where on Callidus he came from, as he never told anyone. 

 County Invas lies by the equator and is famous for that it is the place where the Yarrick family has settled down. From its earliest days, that family chose Callidus and Invas to live in. Why, is a total mystery. 

 County Kernas lies far to the north and is renowned for two reasons. Firstly that its inhabitants still hold on to the ancient Callidussian tradition of ritual scarring of its warriors. Secondly, it was here that one of the Imperium's oldest legends was born. 

 Something that has to be mentioned about Callidus is its wildlife. There are many strange animals on Callidus. The most common are the cattle. These are reminding of Terran cattle, but that is where the resemblance stops. Callidussian cattle, bethas in Callidussian, are nigh on two meters high and weigh over a thousand kilos. The males are the only ones with antlers and these can become nearly half a meter long. Bethas skin is very tough and works good as clothes that are to be put through much. As most bethas are either black or white, which depends on northern or southern breed, clothes in bethas skin are either black or white. However, although bethas are fairly easy-going and kind animals, stampedes are not fun to get caught in when they happen. Despite the bethas weight, they can reach speeds of over fifty kilometres per hour. 

 Another animal that is native to Callidus is the Callidussian eagle or the chomaki. It is a huge bird of prey, with a wingspan on two metres or more. Its beak is capable of cutting off a man's finger with nigh on no effort. It has generally a dark brown hue on feathers as well as legs and a golden brown beak. There have been white-headed examples of chomaki, but they are very rare. The main prey for chomaki is mostly a kind of salmon or squirrels, which carry the names laki and korri respectively. Rumour has that the Adeptus Mechanicus used chomaki to create the living breed of double-headed eagles, or taochomaki, as they are known on Callidus. 

 The third animal of notice is an animal that only lives in County Invas: the kaleen. Kaleen are small, cat-like creatures. They are very insidious and clever creatures and live mostly of eggs from chickens and rodents. However, they are not afraid of humans and if many enough, they can attack and kill humans. This is a very rare thing to happen, but it has happened. Kaleen come in nearly all colours imaginable for fur. They go from black to white, from brown to yellow. They have large, pointed ears and long whiskers. Their eyes are mostly glass green, with horizontal slits for pupils. The bushy tail of the kaleen is nearly as long as the animal itself. But the thing that is most noticeable with the kaleen is their inhuman intelligence, which is not well liked amongst farmers. There is a saying on Callidus that has been spawned from just the shiftiness of the kaleen: 

 "He is kaleen," which means that you shouldn't trust a person, as he is deceitful. 

 The fourth creature is the Callidussian wolfhound. These beasts are uniformly grey in their fur and they live, just like Terran wolves, in packs. Callidussian wolves grow very big, more than a metre tall at the neck. They usually weigh around seventy kilos and their full length, nose to tail, is usually over three metres. One can say they are roughly the size of a Terran Siberian tiger. Amongst Callidussians, it is widely believed that the teeth of an old (and dead) wolfhound bring luck, especially the fangs. But the most notable with the wolfhounds are their curiously long lives. It is not uncommon for a wolfhound to live more than forty years, though wolfhounds in service with humans have been known to live more than sixty years. 

 The Callidussian world for their wolves is yarikk and the reason behind this is found in the Imperium's oldest legend: 

 The Legend of the Eagle, the Wolf and the Hound of Chaos. 

 This legend, of which part has been retold elsewhere, is in fact a collection of books. Each book is roughly four hundred pages long and there are five books. The books tell about the life and doings of Saint Le'man, or Hrodwulf Le'man Yarrick, to give him his full name. However, the Emperor and the Deamon King are also central characters in this epic story, though it is mostly about Saint Le'man, which has made many Imperial scholars draw the concluding theory that it was Hrodwulf himself who wrote it. Though this is doubtable. 

 As said earlier on, the Yarricks have lived on Callidus since the Imperium was born, and the reason is not entirely known. One can only draw one's own conclusions when reading the legend. Most inquisitors speak that it was on Callidus that the Yarricks received their tight bond with the wolfhounds. It is a well-known fact in Imperial society that the Deamon slayer family has a very special bond with the great wolves of Callidus, and there is a special reason that wolf in Callidussian is yarikk. 

 To fully understand why, you have to read the legend. For convenience's sake, this part (Volume 2: Chapter 6) has been included. The text takes place on Callidus, in what nowadays is known as County Herkan. This certain part tells how Le'man first encountered the Emperor outside the Deamon King's reach. Callidus was even more feral back then than it is now, as well as it was in the middle of an ice age. The deamons shunned the planet, but Warp-matter still leaked into the world from open portals. It is not known how Le'man got to Callidus, but it is speculated that he used a Warp-gate. And it is just a few days after his arrival to Callidus northern ice wastes, that chapter 6 of volume 2 takes place. Below follows an excerpt: 

 "Cold did the gales blow when Hrodwulf came to Kalyduss **[NOTE: Ancient Gothic spelling of Callidus, current spelling in Callidussian]**. He was still yet a smith in heart and knew but that he wanted to slay the evil King of Blood. The Deamon King had put Hrodwulf through hideous ordeals and Hrodwulf felt the flame of hatred burn inside of him. It warmed him greatly in the cold weather, for despite that Hrodwulf was well dressed for his quest, the weather on Kalyduss was most foul indeed. Why could Sorn'henai **[=I= NOTE: Eldar word use, use Imperial 'Eagleye'. Correct ASAP. Inq. Rovannion.]** choose such a barren world to meet on? Hrodwulf questioned himself. 

 For days did he walk upon the frozen ground of Kalyduss, snow falling unto his head and melting into his blue hair and freezing again, making it seem as ice. Hrodwulf's only companion was the sword he had made for himself, the sword that he had hardened in the fires of hatred and sharpened with the rays of the sun. As he drew it from its sheath, it shone with an inner light, pure and white, piercing the night like moonlight. It was a sword meant to slay the dark ones, the etherworlders... the deamons. It had been created for one sole duty and Hrodwulf would make it do its duty. A sword was to him created to be used. 

 But Hrodwulf wasn't alone. His tracks and warm breath brought him the attention of burning eyes of beasts born from Chaos. It was on the second fortnight that they attacked. Fighting for his life and soul, Hrodwulf held his own against the hounds of Chaos. But they were so many. The battle did not turn until Hrodwulf lodged his finely crafted sword through the heart of the greatest of the Chaos beasts. Only then did the foul ones retreat, the howl of death of their pack leader still ringing in their ears. So cold was the night, that the dark blood that fell from the Chaos hounds froze to crystals as it hit the ground. Though Hrodwulf didn't care. He carried on in his quest, towards the south. 

 Four days and four nights after Hrodwulf's encounter with the Chaos hounds, did he come upon a lone wolf cub. The cub was not distorted by the Warp as the Chaos hounds and Hrodwulf saw that it was all good with this hound. However, it had gotten lost from its pack, and Hrodwulf couldn't bear to see it starve. He took it upon himself to find the cub's pack, no thought of doubt entering his mind that he'd ever find it. 

**[---] **

 Nigh on two moon cycles after Hrodwulf's arrival to the world of Kalyduss, he found that the little cub he'd taken care of had left him. It happened late one night and Hrodwulf felt sorrow in his heart upon losing his little companion. However, the howls of wolves on the wind reassured him that it might have found its family. This warmed his heart better than his hatred towards the Deamon King, but it would not last. 

 The night after the cub went from him, Hrodwulf found himself cunningly ambushed by the Chaos hound pack. The foul beasts had followed him. 

 With a howl born from Warp-burned throats, the hounds of Chaos leapt at Hrodwulf. Yelling oaths of destruction and damnation at the beasts, Hrodwulf pulled his blade. Its sacred sheen did not frighten the beasts, which came ever onwards. He brought his blade round, severing the head of many beasts. 

 Now first did he get a glimpse of what the Warp had spawned for madness. They seemed much like the wolves of Kalyduss, but much leaner and their fur was blood red instead of grey. They had great black manes covering their necks and most of the skin and sinew seemed scraped from their skulls. 

 One particularly large beast charged at Hrodwulf and bit deeply into Hrodwulf's arm. 

 Howling in pain, much as the Chaos hound pack leader, Hrodwulf went down on his knees. Just as he thought that his final hour had come, Hrodwulf saw that there were grey shapes amongst the Warp beasts. Then Hrodwulf realized it was the pup's pack and they had come to repay their debt to him. The Kalydussian wolves were many more than the leaderless hounds of Chaos and the beasts soon fled. 

 But even in this moment of triumph, Hrodwulf felt only cold. The wound in his arm was bad and he knew that he was going to die. 

 As Hrodwulf lay on the snowy ground, the pack of wolves closed round him. The leader sniffed on the human and then slowly started to lick away the blood from the foul wound that the Chaos hound had caused. Thus Hrodwulf's wound was cleaned. He knew though that he could not go on that night and tried to huddle up and get some sleep, but how he did, he was always cold. The pack of Kalyduss wolves then gathered around him and using their many fur-covered bodies, kept the human alive. 

**[---] **

 A few nights later, Eagleye showed up to Hrodwulf. The white armour of the mighty Paladin was almost invisible to the snowy background, but Hrodwulf recognised his own work. When Eagleye approached the pack of wolves that still protected Hrodwulf, the pack gathered a ring around the human and bared their teeth against Eagleye. Hrodwulf ushered the wolves to calm down and bade Eagleye to approach. As the mighty Paladin approached the former smith, he got a strange look upon his face. 

 'Thou has changed, Hrodwulf Le'man,' Eagleye spake and looked at Hrodwulf with great interest. 

 Hrodwulf looked back at the Paladin. 'Yes, I have, Lord. But only towards the better...' 

 It took Eagleye some time to notice how peculiarly long Hrodwulf's canine teeth had gotten. He also noticed the strange grey sheen in the man's hair as well as the horrid scar on Hrodwulf's forearm. 

 'Now come, Hrodwulf Le'man, the Slayer of Deamons,' the Paladin spake, 'we shalt free our people from their fetters. But we shalt require the help from the ancient Eldar for this, as their folk is too fettered.' 

 'Why do you call me the Deamon Slayer, when I have yet to prove my skill, Lord?' Hrodwulf suddenly asked. 

 'Your future has been foreseen by the Eldar and by me, Hrodwulf, and amongst the elder kin, you are already known as the Year'eich.' "

 That is how that chapter ends. Chapter 7 details how Hrodwulf and the Emperor got away from Callidus to find the Eldar. But what chapter 6 tells is the essential. 

 Imperial scholars and inquisitors have debated back and forth this single chapter in the Legend, but none can give a true answer to why the family that has Hrodwulf's blood flowing in their veins show up a strange physionomy. 

 Common for all Yarrick family members is the bluish-black hair, which when they turn old, go to a grey-blue alike that of the wolfhounds. Also, they show up the same green eyes as the wolfhounds... not to mention that their canines are slightly longer than on an ordinary human. 

 Ordinary Imperial citizens know close to nothing about the Yarricks' strange bound to the Callidussian wolfhounds, even less about the curse that Hrodwulf Le'man carried on to his family. But most ranking inquisitors know. And they accept it. 

 The curse that Hrodwulf brought down on his family has, according to many theories put forth by inquisitors like Rovannion and Schonwald, its basis in that Hrodwulf was cut in the arm by a Chaos hound which put the raw stuff of the Warp in his veins. Then, the theory goes, when the pack leader licked the wound clean, the Warp stuff transmuted Hrodwulf into something not quite all human any more. 

 Hrodwulf himself was unaware of what had happened to him. It is never stated elsewhere in the Legend about this event or any change in him. However, Hrodwulf felt odd when he realized he didn't age as normal men. 

 Now, the curse is a strange one. Due to its apparent heritage in the Warp, it has some idea of time and happens once every one thousand years and it always occur in a male member of the Yarrick family. In the Yarrick family, this curse is known as the Wolf's Curse or the Wolf's Child. The cursed child is not aware of his destined future, nor is his parents. The curse becomes first visible in the child's late puberty, when his nail grow long and pointed and his canines grow to a peculiar length, even for Yarricks. Next, the rest of his human teeth are exchanged for carnivore teeth and he start to grow greyish fur all over his body. The transmutation happens over a matter of months and there is no known way to stop it. 

 Few are those that have suffered the Wolf's Curse and stayed sane. Most have become lunatics, losing their sense and turning from man to beast. Their main goal is always to kill their family members, as they know most of this transmutation. In most of the cases though, the cursed child runs away from home barely days before the mutations begin. The thing that bothers perhaps the most, is that the Inquisition allows these regular mutations in the Yarrick family. Most surely it is because they are regular and not as irregular as the mutation ravaged McKenzie family of Ichar. 

 The latest child to have carried the curse lived between the years 701,895 IY and 701,921 IY and was killed by his brother, Imperial Commissar Caspar Yarrick, the grand-cousin of Commissar General Rolf Yarrick. 

 Callidus was in chaos. Acres upon acres of crops were burning as the horrid abominations known as Necrons ploughed their way forth and killed every living thing. Civilians tried to escape the never-ending onslaught of the Necrontyr, but were easily cut down by their fearsome Gauss weapons. Imperial Guard of the Callidussian PDF and Sisters of Battle from the Order of Our Martyred Lady tried to hold back the Necrons, but to no avail. The Iron Men came marching ever onwards, silent and deadly like a plague. The battle line of the Guardsmen and the Sisters were undeniably pushed backwards, towards Vindaree's outskirts. 

 The canoness in charge of the Sisters on Callidus, Alyssia Demontfurt, tried to make some kind of organised fall back, but the civilians were too many and too scared to keep calm in any way. This caught over to the Guardsmen as well and many turned to flee. Canoness Alyssia was uncertain how many of the brave men and women fell to the enemy as to the Imperial Commissars. She felt herself a tad bit sick when she remembered that her brother was one of the zealous and rather repelling men in the black greatcoats. But she felt a tang of longing for her brother's composure and superior tactical cunning. Alyssia herself was in the main a nun put in a suit of armour, that she had to conclude to herself. 

 "Try to hold the line!" she shouted in her vox-link. "We cannot allow them into Vindaree. Never! Ever!" 

 Alyssia looked up into the sky, looking for a sign from the God-Emperor. But not as much as she was wishing her brother to be with her. 

 "Where are you, brother?" she muttered quietly and lowered her gaze. Her white armour was splattered with blood and oil and her red tabards would need a good and thorough wash after this. She raised her ancient plasma pistol and put a shot through the face of an onrushing Necron. It was clad in the still wet flesh of some poor victim and its fingers had been replaced with rapier-like claws instead. Some witty person, probably dead now, had coined the designation Flayed Ones to this type of Necron. It mattered little as Alyssia's shot struck home and reduced the Flayed One to a puddle of bubbling flesh and metal. 

 High above the surface of Callidus, the Imperial ships of Battle fleet Moskva arrived. Performing a manoeuvre that he'd named 'Dragon Maw', Admiral Ourmnoff and his few ships quickly encircled the Necrontyr vessels. McKenzie got a look of them before he had to mount into the Thunderhawk that was to carry him down to Callidus. The Necrontyr ships were nigh on flat creations it seemed to him, with a single pyramid-like construction, that apparently was the command structure of the ships. The shape of these flat ships was the same: they all looked like crescent moons. McKenzie got to see this peculiar shape when one of the ships tilted and exploded seconds later. 

 Barely half an hour after the Imperial ships had arrived, the Necron raider fleet was destroyed and the larger ships of the Imperial vessels let go of their cargo of Thunderhawk gunship transports. Several other transport ships were ejected as well, but these almost solely contained the machines of war that the Imperial Guard utilized, along with their crew. 

 In one of the first Thunderhawks that had been released, Tanya, Bastion and the Terrans were strapped up. The Navy pilot took a look on his radar screen. McKenzie was studying the murmuring astropath and shied away from him a bit. 

 "Large accumulation of Necrontyr about two kilometres south of Vindaree," the pilot reported. 

 "Dammit, how did they get so close, so quickly?" Bastion cursed. 

 Demontfurt leant over to the pilot and asked for the vox. "Colonel-commissar Demontfurt to all flights," he said as he got the vox-mike, "The Necrontyr are right outside Vindaree. New heading 196, due south. I repeat, one-nine-six, heading south. Acknowledge!" 

 The answers from the one hundred flights frizzled back over the communicator. The astropath replied that every single flight had acknowledged. 

 "Thunderhawk gunships, ready canons," Demontfurt ordered, "let's try to knock out their most dangerous units. Aim for Monoliths, Destroyers and Heavy Destroyers. Demontfurt out!" 

 Tanya turned to the anxious looking Terrans. "Don't worry. We have the finest pilots and gunners in the Imperium." 

 "If that's going to make me feel better, it's not working," Eddy grumbled. 

 Down on the ground, Canoness Alyssia looked up as she heard the screaming sounds of jet-fans. It didn't take long before she saw the plumes of fire eject from various parts of the Necrontyr horde and the dull sound of 80 mil canons filled the air. 

 The dark blue Thunderhawks swept over the Imperial defence force and a cheer went through the lines. Canoness Alyssia found herself shouting in joy as well, but soon re-caught her composure and flicked her personal vox-link open. 

 "Thank the God-Emperor," she sighed. "To all artillery units, concentrate fire on Necrontyr flak units and cover those 'Hawks!" Tanya switched over to the Navy's channel with a simple tap by her right ear. 

 "Canoness Demontfurt to Colonel-commissar Demontfurt," she called, "It's about time you showed up!" 

 "At least we arrived before the crescents, sis!" Commissar Demontfurt replied with a laugh. 

 Ten minutes later, the PDF and Sisters of Battle were reinforced with the Imperial Guard from Secondus. Tanya quickly directed her troops as the transports settled down. The tanks took up a battle line behind the infantry and new soldiers were sent forth to replace tired and wounded soldiers. Not to mention the dead ones. 

 McGranth personally led the Terrans to the front line. This was something he'd been looking forward to since Armageddon's little skirmish. He drew his power axe and ignited the force field that covered the head of it, took out his storm bolter and professionally racked it and turned to the Terrans. 

 "Well, boys and girls. This is it. Ready or not, this is where your real education begins." 

 With that, McGranth picked out a squad consistent of Eddy, Kevin, Rolf and Nazz. Charleston took the Kankers and Ed whilst McKenzie took with him the two psykers: Johnny and Edd. The squads fanned out and joined in with the PDF and Imperial Guard. 

 The amount of fire that was laid down was terrifying, but still the mechanical Necrontyr came ever onwards. The warriors didn't bother McGranth, it as the so-called Flayed Ones, the ones that dressed up in skin torn from their victims. Those chums and the Immortals and Destroyers bothered him the most of all. It goes without mentioning that the Necrontyr leaders were quite frightening too, but McGranth considered them minor in comparison with the terrifying Gauss weapons of the Destroyers. 

 "Well, well, looks like we'll have to do this the hard way, then." McGranth murmured to himself the Flayed Ones broke from their long stride and went over into a sprint. 

 Charleston and McKenzie tried fruitlessly to keep the Eds separated from each other as hand-to-hand ensued. McKenzie gave up in his attempts to make them fight were they would count for and decided to keep Johnny close. McGranth and Charleston formed an unbeatable couple and Rolf and Kevin decided to stay close to Nazz. 

 The Eds found themselves swarmed by Flayed Ones, finding out that the Necrons were about as though as the powered armour they wore. Eddy sent his lightning claw through the head of one whilst Ed performed a figure of eight with his power sword and destroyed four Flayed Ones with that move. Edd gave a good half-dozen Immortals a good doze of plasma beam after destroying a couple of Flayed Ones by ramming his force sword through their heads. Eddy, seeing that Edd was heaping up glory, readied his grenade launcher and fired a krak grenade at an approaching Destroyer. The large hover-machine caught the grenade head on, literally, and went up in a bright explosion. 

 The Kankers were busy heaping bolter shells into Necron warriors and didn't notice the Necron Lord that passed through the line. Lee, however, caught sight of it and aimed her bolter and fired. The shots harmlessly pinged off the thing's metal skin. The Lord approached even closer, raising the phase weapon in its hands and prepared to decapitate Lee. 

 Before the Necron Lord could reach her, Lee had drawn her long rapier like power sword and laid in with a neat slash the totally outdid the Necron's slow, mechanical movements. The power sword passed through the super-conducting materials of its brain and the Lord fell limply to the ground with a thud. 

 "Hands of the merchandise," Lee muttered to herself. 

 McGranth, pulling up his axe from the body of an Immortal, looked around and checked their positions. They were holding the damned iron men off, but they weren't breaking ground. The numbers of the Necrons seemed innumerable. More and more swarmed into the fray. The large Destroyers were sending human's flying with simple sweeps of their unarmed metal fists. And when they fired their Gauss canons... McGranth didn't dare to think of it. He had seen many despicable weapons put to use in his time, but none of them matched the horrible effect of the Necrons' Gauss weapons. 

 When the powered beam struck a target, it peeled the atoms off, layer by layer. The result was that when they struck a human, they peeled off the skin firstly, then the muscle and lastly the bone was atomised. 

 McGranth swept his axe around and crushed the head of another Necron, coming round just in time to see a Destroyer's gun hitting a Battle Sister in the chest. McGranth quickly turned away, to avoid seeing what the weapon would do to the poor girl, because the victim was but a young and handsome woman. 

 "For the Emperor!" McGranth bellowed and raised his axe high into the air. He brought his storm bolter up and fired off a long salvo into the Necrontyr ranks. But still they came ever onwards. 

 "For the Glory of the Throne!" another voice bellowed close by. McGranth turned and saw Commissar Masterson coming up, leading a twenty strong unit of motorbike mounted Guardsmen. Masterson had managed to over voice the roar of the mighty engines of the motorbikes and the force of motorbikes sped past the Imperial force and rammed head on into the Necrontyr, encircling them and filling them with bolts. The bike mounted Guardsmen were all armed with chain weapons whilst Masterson welded a power axe. 

 The bikers rode in circles around the Necrontyr, dodging the metal men's clumsy blows and retaliating with power blows of their own, sending heads and severed metal limbs flying. 

 Three so-called attack bikes accompanied the ordinary bikes. In the sidecar, there was a heavy bolter mounted on each attack bike. Two more bikes of this kind roared up, sporting the powerful anti-tank weapon the multimelta. The heavy bolters fired into the Necrontyr and exploded several in sprays of metal shards. One of the melta-bikes caught a Gauss beam head-on and was vaporised, but the other one managed to fire on an incoming Heavy Destroyer. The heat of a star's core melted the large, hovering Necron away and only a bubbling pool of metal was left behind. 

 On his bike, Masterson seemed to wait for something. "Come on, Demontfurt, come on," he muttered to himself as he rammed his axe through the head of a Necron. 

 There was a wailing sound in the air and then the heavy crump of artillery as the shells exploded in the Necrontyr lines. Demontfurt had lined up the Leman Russ MBTs at final and the mighty tanks now lay in a devastating barrage. He was holding the two swords of his, one in each hand, his laspistols holstered at his waist. With the swords, he directed a twenty-man strong mortar team. 

 "Forty degrees to the west; wait for my command, FIRE!" Demontfurt directed and ordered. 

 As the grenades of the mortar teams thumped away, the tanks fired yet another salvo. Yet again large holes were blasted in the Necrontyr ranks. 

 One his bike, Masterson keyed his com-link and reported, "About frekking time, Demontfurt. Keep it coming now! We've got the metal ass-holes now!" 

 With the new reinforcement of Imperial Armour, the line was quickly stabilised and the Necrontyr driven off. 

 Tanya Yarrick, who was commanding a unit of Storm Troopers along with Cadet Jorun, noticed this change in the battle's flow. 

 "We should be able to retaliate now. Men and women of the Emperor! For His glory, CHARGE!" 

 And with that, the Imperials charged, enflamed by righteous zeal and courage. However, on his flank, Johnny suddenly stopped. He stiffened and seemed to listen to something. 

 "What was that?" he asked himself. 

 "What was what?" McGranth asked as he came up beside them. 

 Johnny just looked towards the horizon. "Something's coming. Something dark..." he muttered. McKenzie and Edd looked first at Johnny, then at the horizon. 

 Large, hovering machines, unmistakeably Necrontyr, came into view at the far end of the Necron force. 

 "Frekk, what's this now?" Masterson cursed. 

 "I was just wondering the same, commissar," McGranth said silently. 

They seemed to be based upon the Destroyer-class body of the Necrons, but it didn't have a large torso attached to it. Instead, it seemed to have some kind of armoured sarcophagus wired directly into what looked like a Necrontyr controller droid of whatever it was. At the front, a large beam gun was attached. It showed much similarity to the heavy Gauss canon of the Destroyers, but it seemed more massive. The energy in the weapons crackled over the surface of the crystals. 

 There were at least ten of them, all in all... 

 "That's the weapon I was talking about before," Tanya said, turning to the Terrans. She turned to her vox-officer, "Send a message to Commissar-colonel Demontfurt. Tell him to open fire upon them with immediate execution." 

 "But," Johnny interrupted, "don't you want to help the people inside the sarcophagi first?" 

 Everyone stared aghast at the young Terran. Johnny turned round to look at McKenzie. "The people in the hovercraft, McKenzie, can't you hear them too? You're like me, aren't you?" 

 McKenzie bit his lip. He had a spooky feeling he knew what Johnny was talking about. Despite this, he focused his mind upon the approaching hovercraft. Johnny was right. McKenzie felt minds, psykers' minds, from the inside of the sarcophagi. And there weren't only human minds; there was at least one Eldar amongst them. But something was wrong, off... The psykers didn't seem to be in control of their own powers. 

 McKenzie felt a flash of pain stab into his head and he dropped to the ground. He hadn't shielded himself from it enough. What kind of dark machination was this? 

 Charleston saw what was happening. When McKenzie acted like that, something was wrong. He turned his gaze out and over the battlefield. He saw the weapons of the new Destroyers charging up. One of them turned round and brought its gun towards them. 

 "Hit the deck!" Charleston shouted and brought down Masterson and Tanya Yarrick with him without thinking twice, shielding them with his massive, power armoured bulk. 

 The gun of the approaching Psyker Destroyer fired its gun and the stream of green, crackling energy passed right over where the Terrans and the others had been standing. The other Psyker destroyers had fired too, but many Guardsmen and Battle Sisters weren't quick enough to duck away. As the beam struck them, it passed through them and continued on its path until it struck something like a tank or a Destroyer wreck. However, the people that were struck by it, were nailed to the spot where they were standing, writhing in agony, without any change of getting free until their bodies had boiled away because of the heat generated. 

 Now McKenzie knew what the pain had been caused by. He had gotten a little taste of the pain to come and had he not retreated as he did, his brain would've been cooked. Literally. He had often seen psyker-weaponry, but they were always employed with the psyker's consent. This was just sick. The Necrons had obviously enslaved psykers' minds to these machines, using them as power batteries to tap the powers of the Warp. He didn't dare to think what happened with them when a psyker's life force had been used up. 

 McKenzie looked at Johnny. "Remember in your basic training? You can manipulate your surrounding with your will. Now, help me, and focus your mind together with me, Johnny." 

 Combining their efforts, Johnny and McKenzie reached out into one of the Psyker Destroyers as it was resting the main barrel from the stress. They let their minds wander down the super-conducting circuitry, trying to find a way to release the psyker's will. McKenzie silently gasped, because a new force was palpable. Another psyker mind, perhaps? He wasn't entirely sure. He knew it wasn't Edd's. Not the same signature. 

 It pointed something out for him and McKenzie took the chance. He overloaded the particular circuit and blocked out another one with Johnny's help. There was a psychic sigh from the trapped mind. McKenzie knew that the psyker's mind was free from its fetters, though its mortal body was bound. He felt a build up of power inside the trapped psyker's mind and drew himself back, together with Johnny. 

 McKenzie knew what the trapped psyker was trying to cause: an electric overload. It would have the same effect as sending too much power through a television-set. McKenzie was not disappointed. The Psyker Destroyer in question exploded in a flash of psychic energy in all the colours of the rainbow. 

 Having found how to release the minds and save ammunition in the process, Johnny and McKenzie continued to focus on new targets and free more psykers. As this had to be done in the interval between the shots, casaulties couldn't be avoided. Johnny, and the other Terrans, felt a bit bad over this, but Masterson simply replied that they would save millions of lives. The Terrans were a little shocked over the way that Masterson had put it: very flatly and without compassion. It dawned on them, that in the Imperium, or what had once been the Imperium, the phrase 'acceptable losses' really meant what it said. 

 It mattered little later, to all of them. McKenzie and Johnny had destroyed the last of the Psyker Destroyers and the Necrontyr started to fall back. The Imperials chased them down and destroyed every last one of them. 

 As the Imperial force was victorious and not a single Necron had escaped, Tanya remarked it was all very peculiar, and Masterson agreed. 

 "Why so?" McGranth asked. 

 "The Necrontyr usually 'phase out' before all of their numbers are destroyed," Masterson replied, "but it seems the admiral did a good job up there, destroying all ships they could escape with." 

 They walked through the swarms of milling soldiers and got up in a truck that Tanya said would take them to the city Vindaree. She claimed they had to see it, so that all was fine. Masterson got back to his bike and rode it to Vindaree, whilst Demontfurt and, to everyone's surprise, Bastion, rode with the Terrans in the back of the large truck. Tanya said that the wounded would be the first ones to see Vindaree after them as Vindaree had high quality health facilities, and she wanted to assess the damage of the city. 

 Fortunately, Vindaree had escaped the attack relatively unharmed. Bastion told them that they should go to the High Council's meeting hall. When they got there, an Administratum Clerk handed Bastion a docket and he looked it through. 

 "Seems I'll have to oversee the repairs of this place..." Bastion muttered to himself. 

 "This place is a mess," Eddy remarked politely.

 "It would have been even worse, if it hadn't been for you," Bastion said and turned to look at the Terrans and smiled, "Thank you all." He turned to McKenzie and Johnny. "I'm not sure what you did out there, but this is the first solid victory we've ever had over the Necrontyr. Maybe this marks the turn of the tide for us humans." 

 Demontfurt saw Masterson approach the group. "Masterson and I will organise the incoming troops." Demontfurt saluted and left together with Commissar Masterson. 

 As Bastion saw the two commissars leave, he turned to the other again. "You will have to excuse me. I must prepare for a meeting of the High Council later today." Bastion snapped his fingers and two young men, servants, ran up next to him. "You will be shown to your temporary quarters, where you will live the time you are here." 

 The group of Terrans followed the two servants whilst Bastion departed together with his mother to prepare the meeting. 

 Later that day, whilst the meeting of the High Council was under way in the large Administratum building where it was housed, McKenzie, Edd and Johnny were having a private talk elsewhere in the city, in the building where their living quarters where housed. The room they were sitting in had once belonged to a high-ranking official of the Imperial Guard, but he was long dead now and the large study served now as dormitory for the male parts of the Terran entourage. 

 The three psykers were all alone. Charleston and Ed had gone out to see if they could find any pict-slates with films of their tastes, Kevin and Rolf had decided to ease out in a warm-water pool somewhere in the building and McGranth and Eddy had, strangely enough, found a book each to read. 

 "So," Edd said thoughtfully as he polished his sword, "there's no doubt? There really were people in those hovercraft?" 

 "Yes," McKenzie replied, "psykers. However, they seemed to be enslaved somehow. Not only physically, but psychically as well. They were obviously used as a power source for these weapons. I knew since before that the Necrontyr were merciless, but this is just monstrous!" 

 "Don't they have psykers of their own, then?" Edd asked. 

 "Apparently not," McKenzie snorted. "They're machines. If they had psychic powers, they would be taking the same risks as we do when we use the powers of the Warp. Now, it seems, not a single one of them has psychic power and that is why they enslave mortals. I believe they recently found out the potentials of psychics as a weapon..." McKenzie turned silent a while. "They must've fought Eldar to realize the potential of psychonic weaponry. They must've." 

 "But, isn't there any way we can help the people enslaved," Johnny asked. "Without killing them in the process, I mean," he quickly added. 

 McKenzie gave Johnny a strange look. "You're brave and righteous in your mind, Johnny, but naive," McKenzie sighed. "I can't see any way we can free those poor souls. We were barely able to free them psychically, weren't we? I am afraid there's little hope to free them physically as well." 

 "Well, something has to be done," Edd said and got up. "The Necrons have to be stopped, now more than ever. And, McKenzie, you of all people should know that all battles aren't won from brute display of physical power, right?" 

 "You mean we should put to use the powers that Fate has bestowed us with, epistolary?" McKenzie said with a wry smile. 

 "What else?" Edd replied indignantly. "If we don't hurry, the Necrontyr might find some way to breed psychic humans. Humans, who've never tasted freedom, who won't even have a name of it. They won't want to be freed, as they would've had an entire life in imprisonment! They'd work against us. Now, they're using enslaved minds, but in a few years, they might be using humans, and Eldar, bred for this single purpose. We must find a way to stop it from happening!" 

 McKenzie nodded silently. He was silent for a long while. "Gather your gear, I have an idea." 

 The two Terrans did as they were told and followed McKenzie. They went down to the entrance and followed the road to the Vindaree Star Port. They took a Thunderhawk up to Mishkin's Pride and McKenzie requested to talk with Admiral Ourmnoff. 

 As the powerful Moskvanian admiral saw who had come to visit him, he seemed confused rather than happy. 

 "What brings the famous Master Lexicanum here, eh?" Ourmnoff asked as he got up to the three psykers. 

 "Admiral," McKenzie said, "I require the use of a Thunderhawk gunship." 

 "Why so, sir?" 

 "For the safety of the Imperium of Man," McKenzie simply replied. 

 "Might I ask, where you are going, Master Lexicanum?" 

 "To the bordering space of the nearest Warp-gate." 

 The admiral looked doubtful. "That is outside the operating distance of a Thunderhawk." 

 "In that case, I require the help of an escort ship to get me there," McKenzie replied flatly. 

 Admiral Ourmnoff was not convinced, it seemed. "I cannot risk that. Battle fleet Moskva is already diminished in force." 

 "Admiral," McKenzie said, interrupting the high ranking officer's thoughts, "Let me put it like this: If you grant me what I want, Battle fleet Moskva might survive this bitter war with the iron men, and grow in force once again." 

 The admiral nodded. "Well, then. I grant you the use of a fully armed Thunderhawk gunship. However, I want it back. You will board the Sword-class escort Ivanov under the command of Captain Britanova." 

 "Britanova?" McKenzie said silently. "A female captain?" 

 "You find something wrong in that, Master Lexicanum?" 

 "No, not at all." McKenzie was silent a while and then saluted. "Off we go to now to find the roots of Eldar, Humans and Necrons alike!" 

 With that, McKenzie, Edd and Johnny left for the Thunderhawk to get them to Ivanov. They left Admiral Ourmnoff in deep thought over the meaning of McKenzie's statement.


	8. New World ED part 1

New World ED

"Underneath this sleeping city

Red eyes filled with rage, not pity

Stalk our dreams with tooth and claw

And crave for human flesh to gnaw" 

 --From Sabbat's Blood for a Blood God

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 The Imperium of Mankind has many lines of defence. In the first one, you find the Adeptus Astartes and their legions of super humans. Right next to them, are the elite trained Sister Sororitas. Both of these two forces are all armed with the finest weaponry and armour the Imperium can offer. However, they are relatively few in number and, as stated, elite forces. They are called to arms against the most vicious of enemies, enemies the likes of the Berzerkers, Eldar and the Hive Mind warriors. These forces always perform at peak efficiency and can be relied on to take out daemons. The Adeptus Astartes and Adeptus Sororitas are used as a delicate scalpel against the enemies of Man, applied exactly as much as needed to break the foe. 

 They have an utter opposite: the Imperial Guard. 

 The vast bulk of the Imperial Armed Forces are made up of ordinary men and women. It goes one thousand Imperial Guardsmen on one Sister Sororita and ten thousand Guardsmen on one Space Marine. The Imperial Guard is not elite. They are ground-pounders, dog-soldiers and various other names applied to common infantry. They are not used as a scalpel, but as a sledgehammer. They are the Imperium's true first, last and only line of defence against the alien menace. 

 The Imperial Guard can come as anything, ranging from Light Infantry to Armoured regiments consistent of nothing but tanks. The Imperial Guard can come as mounted cavalry, light scouts, snipers, tank companies, artillery regiments, heavy infantry and mechanised infantry, to mention some of its guises. The standing Imperial army of Guardsmen numbers over ten billion. Being at such numbers, it is impossible to supply such vast numbers with the same level of weaponry and armour as the Sisters of Battle and the Space Marines. Instead of bolters, the Imperial Guard is supplied with the sturdy and reliable lasgun. Instead of powered armour, they are dressed in flak or carapace armour. Instead of tanks like the Rhinoceros APC, the Predator tank and the dreaded Land Raiders, the Imperial Guard makes do with the Chimera APC and the Leman Russ MBT, not without mentioning the innumerable variants of these two hulls. 

 The Chimera APC has given birth to several other tanks, amongst them the Hellhound flame tank and the Basilisk mobile artillery piece. There are also almost innumerable Leman Russ variants. Some worth to mention are the Demolisher, the Exterminator, the Vanquisher and the Conqueror. These tanks are all optimised for special field roles. However, they have one thing in common: they're all rugged and reliable constructions, needing little field maintenance. 

 Something else that marks out the Imperial Guard is that they are the only ones to employ the so-called super-heavy tanks, like the Baneblades and the Stormhammers. The walking giants of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Titans, can only rival these huge metal beasts in firepower. These are, however, not part of the Imperial Guard, and thus we leave that matter here. 

 Super-heavy tanks are only ever employed in armies that can trace their heritage to a forge or hive world, like Armageddon or Ronan. These armies might have the resources for such metal beasts, whilst a regiment from Callidus or Bennas aren't very likely to field one in their colours. 

 To be able to field such vast armies of Guardsmen and tanks, the Imperial Guard has a very rigidly set command system. 

 To make things easy, we'll start at the top of the chain of a regiment. 

 Each regiment has a commanding officer, a colonel. It's very rare to find a major in command of a regiment. The colonel and the major of a regiment might split it up between themselves, to simplify command in battle, but it's the colonel who is commander in chief. 

 Next up are the captains. Each captain has command of a company. Each company is split up in a number of platoons, ranging from three to ten, depending on the size of the regiment. There is, however, no upper limit for the number of companies in a regiment, but ten is a common number. 

 Each platoon is lead by a lieutenant. The lieutenant has command over three to ten squads of Imperial Guard. In some regiments, like the Icharian, lieutenants are instead called first sergeants, but their positions are the same. 

 After the lieutenants come the sergeants. Each sergeant is in command of a squad of ten to twenty Imperial Guardsmen. Once again, the numbers vary depending on regimental heritage. The Callidussian Light Infantry regiments, for example, use twenty man squads, whilst the Steel Legions of Armageddon utilize the ten-man system instead, as a Chimera APC only takes twelve men. The sergeant might be accompanied by a corporal in those cases the unit numbers twenty. In some cases, a corporal instead of a sergeant might lead the ten man squads, but this is a rare happening. 

 Concerning ranks higher than colonel, there are brigadier, general (of various grades) and warmaster. However, these powerful individuals are often in command of regiments from other planets than those they were raised on and warmasters and so-called lord generals are often brought up in the Imperial aristocratic families. 

 The men and women that make out the absolute top of the Imperial Guard are some of the most powerful individuals in the entire Imperium. But they are also the most vigorously inspected. Should a warmaster fail in his duties, he'll most likely be demoted on the spot, if not executed. By fail, it means that the officer in question allows a large proportion of his army to be destroyed or, even worse, shows heretical behaviour. 

 The ones to perform these duties are the ever-present Imperial Commissars. The political officers of the Imperium will never consider any warmaster, no matter how talented, more than a potential failure in the most crucial of moments. It is a common saying in the Commissariat that the heat of battle always shows what men and women really are made of. A statement that has been proved on more than one occasion. 

 This ideology hasn't stopped the Imperium from giving several commissars through history military command over units that they have served with. The result has been trouble in the political wing of the Imperial Guard, as the primary duty for a commissar is to keep track of the unit's commander. The solution has often been to attach supplementary commissars to the regiment or regiments in question. 

 However, there are times when even the fearful presence of a commissar isn't enough to make Imperial Guardsmen turn to fight the enemy. They are rare, but they do happen. Such a time was when Lord Kevlinn first attacked the Imperium, another when he, in the guise of Kharn, invaded Armageddon together with Ghazghkull Thraka, Ork Warlord. 

 The most recent of these rare happenings though, was when the Necrons made their first blitz attack upon the Imperium and Metallix went rampant upon humanity. Although, the humans rallied after a while, it had cost them, and it still would cost them. And with most of the Adepta Sororitas gone and the Adeptus Astartes dissolved, the Imperial Guard stood more or less alone... 

The day after the punishing Necrontyr attack on Callidus, where the newly arrived Terrans had for the first time encountered the psi-weaponry of the Necrons, Vindaree was already putting itself together again. The meagre population that still inhabited Vindaree had gotten out of their bomb-shelters and were now slowly piecing their home back together again. They had done it before, and would do it again and again and again, until the Necrontyr were either destroyed, or the humans annihilated. 

 There was one crucial difference between this recent attack, and the other raids. There was no longer anything left of the PDF to be spoken off. Instead, three full regiments of Imperial Guard and two companies of Sisters of Battle had set up camp just outside the badly mauled agri-cultural metropolis. 

 In the large Administratum building, which was under heavy reconstruction, but still was standing and whole in its basic structure, Commissar General Tanya Yarrick was fruitlessly trying to convince her son Bastion Yarrick about a very crucial, tactical point in Vindaree's and Callidus' defence. 

 "Bastion, don't you see? These attacks and their results are why I want to station Guardsmen here. The PDF is on its last legs!" 

 Bastion stopped and looked at his mother. "Mother, we've discussed this I don't know how many times before; the High Council wouldn't allow Imperial Guardsmen to roam the streets. Vindaree is supposed to be a place of peace. It's there to symbolise the Imperium can survive without war-" 

 "Try to convince an ork about THAT philosophy..." Tanya muttered. 

 "Mom! I mean it would be very difficult to maintain the image of a peaceful haven with heavily armed guardsmen walking the streets." 

 "I am not trying to declare a marshal law," Tanya complained, "I just want to post a company or so of guards. To protect the civilians." 

 "I have said it before, and I'm saying it again; it's no use, mother. The High Council has banned the use, or the carrying, of firearms inside the city-state limits. Not even I can change such a thing without support!" 

 Tanya glared at her son. "Bastion, I am armed. No one has tried to disarm me since we entered. Is this your idea of safe?" 

 "They know whom you are, that's why," Bastion replied coolly. "We do check people who enter Vindaree, but your face is so well known, they give a frekk in you, to be blunt." 

 "What if I was a potential traitor?" 

 "But you ain't. There's no idea in arguing with me, mother. I said that this is something the High Council has decided." 

 Tanya sighed heavily as the two started walking again. "Blasted beaurocrats! In the glorious days when the God-Emperor was still around, these things would never have been contemplated. It would never have happened. It would've been ordered out and considered the Emperor's words." 

 "Mother, you know, as I know, that ever since the Emperor was wounded by the Deamon King, he was more or less bound to that Golden Throne of his. The Imperium was effectively ruled by the High Lords. Our High Council is very similar to the old Imperial rule, right? Just... more democratic." 

 Tanya sighed again. The two walked in silence for a while, and then Tanya broke it. 

 "It's just so difficult for me, as a mother, to know that there's nothing I can do to protect you, Bastion." 

 "I don't think you should worry yourself about that," Bastion said flippantly and produced a short-barrelled las pistol from inside of his coat. "I am more than capable of taking care of myself in a situation." 

 Tanya idly contemplated the fact that a las pistol wouldn't even scratch the surface of a Necron, but bit back the urge to say this to Bastion. Instead, she smiled wryly and said, "I seem to remember someone saying that weapons weren't allowed inside the city-state limits." 

 "I am a special circumstance. Being one of the leaders of the council, it makes me quite a target, and I must ensure my own safety, no?" Bastion asked as he put the pistol back inside his coat. "Besides," he added, "what the council doesn't know, won't hurt it."

 "Perhaps so..." Tanya said and let her mind wander. She thought of how complicated things had gotten with this 'High Council'. She, as all the other commissars, were used to strict, rapid discipline. She just couldn't take the slow progress of beaurocracy. No commissar could, despite being trained to be political officers. Okay, so she was a political officer, but this wasn't her politics and her way. 

 "Politics..." Tanya said after a silent moment. "I don't know how you can conduct yourself in them and still keep a trace of dignity... or sanity." 

 Bastion didn't even glance at her at this remark. "We all have our crosses to bear, mother," he replied flatly. 

 The two had just passed the door out to a balcony when they heard a loud, crashing noise. Tanya recognised the sound of twisting and splintering concrete after years of city fights. She headed back towards the balcony. 

 "Speaking of which," she said to Bastion over her shoulder. The young man followed her outside. Tanya stood at the marble railing of the balcony and looked down at the scene below her. 

 On the building opposite of the large Administratum building, a crew of twenty or so construction workers had been putting a new support column into place with the help of a crane. Thing was, the large concrete column had been to heavy for the crane, and the seven metres high construction machine had toppled over, destroying the column and the crane. Commissar Masterson, who Tanya guessed just had passed by, was taking this opportunity to chew out the foreman and blow some steam. 

 "Are you people trying to kill someone? And who the frekk put you in charge anyway, you idiot!" Masterson growled. "Anyone can see that that crane is not for this kind of-" 

 "Masterson!" 

 "Huh?" The burly commissar looked after the voice that had so rudely cut him off. He saw that it came from Bastion Yarrick, standing together with his mother on a balcony ten metres above his head. 

 "We've discussed this before," Bastion said clearly, so Masterson wouldn't miss a word, and neither the workers. "I don't appreciate you abusing civilians. You can do whatever Imperial Law permits with soldiers, but hands off the civvies! They're not part of your service area anyway." 

 Masterson bit back an urge to yell at the youth, glared at Bastion, then the workers and stormed off with a low growl. Up on the balcony, Tanya sighed again. She was getting good at sighing. She done it very often lately, she noticed. Practice makes perfect, she thought darkly. 

 "I have to get him to take some R and R," she said, meaning Masterson. She was broken from further thoughts by the trilling sound of her communicator. 

 "This is Commissar General Yarrick, over," she replied. 

 "Ma'am, the scouts have returned," a voice replied over the vox-link. "Your presence is required." 

 "I'm on my way," Tanya replied and turned to leave the building. Bastion followed her to the main doors. 

 "Speaking of R and R," Bastion said and tried to cover a smile. 

 "Don't start," Tanya warned. "Besides, the senior Imperial Guard officer can't just take time off whenever she pleases, eh?" 

 "I know, mother, I know," Bastion replied with a soft smile. The smile reminded Tanya about Bastion's father so much. She shrugged off the memory. No time to get romantic now! 

 At the doors, Tanya raised her hand and made a sign with her fingers, calling the attention of her personal driver. As the staff car drove up to the pair, Bastion looked his mother in the eyes. Tanya thought he'd say something very important, but instead he just smiled again and turned. 

 "Well, I'd better see to the cleanup," Bastion said as he strolled away. 

 Tanya looked after him till he'd disappeared upstairs. Then she got into the staff car, which drove her to the Imperial Guard encampment outside the city. She was there in just under half an hour. 

 As she arrived at the encampment, she saw the Terrans dismounting from a Chimera APC. She didn't take much notice of them, until they'd all gathered in a large meeting tent. She counted the Terran faces over, but realised that McKenzie and the two boys named Edd and Johnny were absent. 

 "McGranth," Tanya said and turned to the massive form of the Grand Commander, "where's McKenzie?" 

 "He, Double D and Johnny took a Thunderhawk up to Admiral Ourmnoff's ship some time ago. McKenzie said he needed to perform some kind of private research. At least that's what it said in the message he left to me. I stopped asking what he does a long time ago." 

 Tanya nodded thoughtfully. "Alright." She turned to the assembled men and women. 

 "Less than an hour ago, a report came in, telling us that there are still Necron elements active after the battle. Why they haven't phased out, is a mystery. Perhaps that function is offline, I don't know. Anyway, they have managed to enter an older part of the Vindaree subway-system, parts built during the first Imperial Age, perhaps in the times of the 'Safi Yarikk'. However, from these parts, they have access to much newer parts, and thus pose a serious threat. When I got this report, I voxed Bastion Yarrick and ordered him to shut down the subway for the time being, until this taint has been purged. 

 "Commissar Demontfurt and I have to assist in the reconstruction of Vindaree, as there are Imperial Guard elements active as reconstruction teams. Do you think you can deal with the situation?" 

 "I'd love to," McGranth said and smiled warmly. "It'll be far better than lounging around here all day. And I believe I talk for all of us, when I say that." A chorus of "Ayes!" was the other Terrans' reply. 

 "Excellent," Tanya said. "Masterson will accompany you as a guide, so you don't get lost, and Masterson," Tanya said and turned to look Masterson squarely in the eyes, "I want to make it clear that McGranth will be in charge." 

 "Of course," Masterson replied with a slight nod. He wasn't so stupid he wouldn't defer to a Grand Commander of the Adeptus Astartes. 

 The collection of Terrans, Charleston, McGranth and Masterson got up to leave. Rolf was the last one out, but Tanya grabbed him by the arm. 

 "Oh, Rolf," Tanya said and looked Rolf straight in the eyes, "would you please come with me." 

 Tanya had tried to make it sound more like an order, but this passed Rolf by. "But I am needed in the subways," he said and he shrugged her hand off him. 

 "McGranth and the others will manage. There is just something I need to discuss with you." 

 "If you wish," Rolf replied and followed Tanya back to the black staff car and rode with her and Demontfurt back to Vindaree. 

 In the mean time, Masterson, McGranth, Charleston and the Terrans had taken a pair of Chimera APCs to take them to one of the subway entrances. The entrance was all that remained of the old station; a pitch black hole with concrete stairs and iron railing for those that needed to steady themselves. Masterson handed out flashlights to each one. Eddy, Ed, Charleston, McGranth and Kevin mounted the flashlights on their left forearms, Star Trek style, giving them free hands. Masterson and the four girls mounted their flashlights under the barrel of their weapons, except May, who had to mount it by the side of her flamer, to avoid melting the flashlight when using the flamer. 

 "This is it," Masterson said flatly as he lead the group down the stairs. "We'll be going into some of the older tunnels, in the outskirts of the city state of Vindaree. There is still electricity down here, but many lamps most surely have died, so that's why we're bringing flashlights. Also, these tunnels might not be in the best overall condition, so watch your step." 

 Masterson led them down on to the mono-rail track and made way towards where Vindaree should've been, had they not been underground. The tunnels the monorail trains had used were quite wide, so they could walk four in width, Masterson taking the lead. The commissar had been right about the tunnels. There were still lamps hanging a little here and there, but many weren't functioning, or maybe just sizzling with electricity. Parts of the walls had fallen in and earth covered the monorail track in those sections. 

 Charleston strolled up to one of the walls during their walk and shone his light on it. Different kinds of greenery were growing on the old concrete walls. Charleston idly wondered how they could survive without sunlight. He let his lamp play along the wall as he walked and discovered that the greenery covered inscriptions on the wall. He rubbed some of the slimy, fungus like plants away from one spot and saw what he'd heard Terran street children call a 'tag'. Seems Callidus had had the same problem with children spray-painting walls once. Charleston decided not to worry about the walls any more. If walls wanted to tell a story other than 'Kilroy was here', he doubted it would be these walls. 

 After about an hour of walking, they came to the next station. As the group got up onto the platform, they saw why they hadn't accessed this station from the ground. The stairs up to the surface had collapsed under the weight of earth that fallen down from above. Most probably the result of Necrontyr shelling. Masterson led them to another track, after having checked a map and counter-checking with his data-slate. They followed the new track for about half an hour and came to a crossing. Excluding the tunnel they just had come out of, there were three tunnels leading from the crossing. 

 Masterson scratched his chin in thought as he reviewed the data-slate. "Oh, right," he said after a moment. "This is the old construction terminal. The tracks were used for sub-way cars that transported workers, when they were upgrading the underground power network that ran alongside the subway." 

 "Alright, listen up," McGranth called the others attention. "We'll have to split into groups. Commissar Masterson, Commander Charleston and Lieutenant Commander Ed, you take the right tunnel. Canoness Nazz, you and the three Kanker sisters take the left one. Standard chain of command, you lot, got it? And you two, you're with me." 

 This last comment was directed to Eddy and Kevin. 

 "Okay, let's move out," McGranth said and clapped his hand. "And don't forget to cover your backs, right?" 

 With that, the group split up and headed into the tunnels. 

Back in the city, Tanya Yarrick, Imperial Commissar General, sat on a bench on one of the many balconies of the Administratum building, enjoying the view of Vindaree. She loved it. Vindaree was, as far as she was concerned, perfect to rest the eyes on. The colours weren't boring nor were they to glaring. They were just... mild. Comforting for the eye. It was a sight she far to seldom got to enjoy due to her position. She closed her eyes and took in the sweet scents from the trithwood flowers that were blossoming in their pots on the balconies. It was spring now, here on Callidus. She'd been fighting so much lately that she'd forgotten that time had passed. Well, she hadn't really. She'd seen her son grow into a young man during these hard years, and Bastion had been her only measure of time at some passages. 

 Behind her, Rolf strolled out on the balcony. He marvelled over the sheer scale of the city, but one part of him said he'd seen it before, even more grand. He shrugged the feeling off and walked up next to Tanya. 

 "You wished to see me, yes?" Rolf asked as he got Tanya's attention. 

 "Ah, yes," Tanya replied, smiling warmly. "Rolf, please join me." Tanya patted invitingly on the bench. 

 Rolf sat down. The two sat in silence for a long moment, both enjoying the smells of the trithwood and the sounds from the streets below. Vindaree was slowly recovering, it seemed. 

 Tanya broke the silence. "Rolf, have you given any though as to what you'll do when this is all over?" 

 Rolf started. The trithwood had awoken memories inside of him. Strange memories. "When what is over," he asked, dumbfounded. 

 "The war with the Necrons, of course," Tanya sighed. "What will you do, when it's over?" 

 "Ah, Rolf understands," he said and relaxed. "You wish me to remain here, yes? With the Imperium in this state, there will be much work to do." 

 Tanya silently shook her head. 

 "No, Rolf," she said after a moment of silence. "You're the one who doesn't understand. I don't want you to remain here. I want you to return to Terra with the others of your kind. The other Terrans." 

 "Now Rolf truly doesn't understand," Rolf said and knitted his brows. 

 "My place is here, in the Imperium," Tanya said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "However, your place is back on Terra, with your family and loved ones." Tanya saw the change in Rolf's eyes. She was afraid of this, afraid that it would happen. She didn't want the past back... 

 "But," Rolf said, and Tanya heard the unmistakable Invas County dialect. The Terran youth had had a funny dialect, but not like the Invas County dialect. Not at all. "But, surely a veteran officer as myself would-" Rolf began. 

 That was it. Tanya cut him off. 

 "You are not a veteran officer, Rolf. You are a young man, barely in his twenties!" 

 "I carry the same uniform as you, Tanya. The uniform of the Imperial Commissariat." 

 "The uniform you're wearing doesn't belong to you. It belongs to Rolf Yarrick, Imperial Hero. A man long since dead!" 

 Rolf looked Tanya straight in the eyes. "Rolf Yarrick isn't dead. Far from. He lives on in me." 

 Tanya got up and stood herself before Rolf, placing her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight and squarely in his emerald green eyes. 

 "Rolf Yarrick does not live on in you. You may possess his memories, but you do not possess his soul. That joined the Emperor long ago. You go into battles with far less experience than you believe yourself to have! This is very dangerous, Rolf! You have been lucky, this far, but some day your lack of experience will catch up on you, and the result will be very tragic." 

 Rolf got up and shrugged Tanya off himself with ease. He fixed her with a steady, steely gaze. Tanya didn't know quite what to draw from that look. She'd seen it once before, in the eyes of Commissar Masterson. It was calculating, brooding. It had measured her every centimetre. Rolf was doing the same. Measuring her, calculating her. Making sure about something she couldn't put her finger on. 

 Suddenly, Rolf broke their eye contact. "Enough of this," he said angrily. "I will not listen to this foolishness any longer! You speak of experience and lack thereof? Will I not gain experience after hand, no? Now, there's much for me to prepare for battles to come." 

 With those words, the young Terran stormed off. 

 "You put far too much on your own shoulders, Rolf!" Tanya called after him. She believed he hadn't heard. Hadn't wanted to hear. Tanya sighed sadly and sat down on the bench again. She hadn't, however, seen how Commissar Demontfurt had watched them both and watched Rolf as the young Terran had stormed down the hall. The commissar set after Rolf, with a very angry look on his face. 

 Demontfurt followed Rolf to another, larger balcony. It was large enough to support a group of at least twenty people, with a marble railing and the roof of an adjoining building just to the left of it. Demontfurt walked up behind the youth, who was obviously studying the city very intently. Demontfurt lowered his head a little, so that his peaked cap hooded his eyes when he spoke. 

 "Are you truly such a fool that you can't see what's happening?" 

 Rolf turned to face the colonel-commissar, his face contorted by fury. Demontfurt noticed a strange sheen of green in Rolf's eyes. 

 "How dare you talk to a veteran Imperial Officer in that way?" Rolf snarled. 

 "No, you are a little a boy," Demontfurt replied, looking straight back into Rolf's eyes. "A little boy who relies on the skills and abilities of a veteran Imperial Officer, a true Imperial Hero, because he doesn't trust in his own ability." 

 Rolf was just about to make a searing reply when Demontfurt cut him off. 

 "That's why you haven't been able to fully let go of Commissar General Rolf Yarrick, right? You believe that you need him. You believe you aren't good enough without him!" 

 Rolf's eyes narrowed. His dark green eyes had turned emerald, Demontfurt noticed. "You dare speak in such a manner to me," Rolf growled. 

 "And what will you do? It is truly a pitiful creature that must rely on others to fight his battles for him. It reminds me a bit about the Etherdarkers." 

 Rolf lips parted as he gritted his teeth in fury. Demontfurt noticed how peculiarly long the youth's canines were, but he didn't aim it any longer contemplation. 

 "Enough of this," Rolf growled. "You don't believe that I have skill? Then I'll show you..." 

 With one fluid motion, the Yarrickian sword was out of its scabbard and pointed at Demontfurt. Demontfurt swiftly drew the pair of swords he'd been using for a long time back and that he knew well. 

 "You wish to talk of skill?" Demontfurt mockingly asked as the two circled each other. "I have real skill. I've been training intently in the art of the blade for more than twenty years. I've been utilizing those skills to great success on the field of battle. That is real skill! Perhaps you'll understand better if I give a slight demonstration?" 

 Rolf didn't wait for the attack that he knew would come. He stabbed in quickly with his sword, but Demontfurt dodged to the left. Bringing his sword round quickly to bring Demontfurt further off-balance, Rolf drove the colonel-commissar backwards step by step. The ring of metal striking metal echoed between the buildings. 

 Rolf managed to back Demontfurt up against the marble railing and made a horizontal slash against Demontfurt's belly. In one swift motion, taking good use of Rolf's wild swing, Demontfurt jumped backwards and up on the marble-railing and then used it as a base to somersault over Rolf's head. 

 Demontfurt landed behind the youth, spun round, and brought his left sword against Rolf. 

 Rolf dodged the sword easily, but he'd forgot about the second one. In a desperate attempt to avoid it, Rolf made an elegant back flip, rolled backwards when he landed and stood up on the far side of the balcony. He faced Demontfurt. 

 There was a pause and then Rolf brought up his hand to his left cheek. And he wiped away with his hand, he saw the faint red of blood on his black leather gloves. Demontfurt had managed a small cut in his face. 

 Demontfurt smirked. "So, the legendary warrior is mortal after all. Now do you begin to understand?" 

 Rolf smirked back. "Fate may smile upon anyone... once." 

 "Fate?" Demontfurt said and cocked an eyebrow. "Hah! There's no such thing as fate! There's only experience, something that I have and you have not." 

 Rolf managed a vicious grin. Once again, Demontfurt saw the peculiarly long canines. "I will show you experience, colonel-commissar." 

 With that, Rolf flew on Demontfurt again. Metal striking metal. 

 Neither of them could get a clear advantage. Rolf knew now not to underestimate his foe and the same was clear for Demontfurt. However, Rolf had size and reach on his side, not to mention momentum, and drove Demontfurt against the marble railing again. This time, when Demontfurt jumped up on the railing, Rolf was quickly there too, to avoid getting struck at from behind. He'd never do the same mistake twice. 

 Both of them moved their feet slowly, the slight arch of the railing making it hard to keep one's balance whilst dishing out slashes and parrying the other's blows. 

 The balcony and its railing was as old as the Administratum building, and one section of the railing suddenly gave way, declaring that it had had enough of this. The two combatants came tumbling down, Demontfurt landing heavily on his feet and Rolf rolling around to avoid hurting himself. 

 The two picked themselves up quickly and continued with their duel. Demontfurt was pleased to see the seed of frustration on Rolf's face. Rolf was striking as fast as he could, but due to Demontfurt's two swords, the older man always managed to dodge him. 

 "Rolf doesn't understand why your swords hasn't broken, or even gotten notched, by this sword?" Rolf managed to say during a slight break of blows. 

 "That's because adamantium swords don't break so easily," Demontfurt replied and lunged at Rolf. He was repelled instantly. Not that he'd counted on that to work. 

 "Adamantium?" Rolf said silently. That was the same material that his was made of. "Where did you get them?" 

 "Made them myself actually," Demontfurt said with a pleased smile. "I learned early on to respect the sword. I have dedicated the better part of my life to the study of what is easily the finest of all hand weapons. As part of my mastery of the sword, I learned how to craft them." 

 Rolf felt perplexed. "But how? Such a thing must've taken decades!" 

 "Oh, yes," Demontfurt replied. "I trained long to achieve my current skill level. I am currently the best swordsman in the Imperium." 

 Rolf jumped at Demontfurt again, lunging with his sword. Halfway through, Rolf felt that this wasn't going to work. He saw as in slow motion how Demontfurt parried his sword with his left-hand weapon and slashed at him with his right-hand weapon. Rolf forced himself into ducking back hard and fast; so he wouldn't lose his head, lost his footing instead and nearly fell. 

 "Tell me then," Demontfurt asked archly, "if you're a veteran Imperial Officer, how does it come that you are held off so easily?" 

 Something inside of Rolf raged against this blatant insult. He merely managed a bestial snarl and charged Demontfurt head on, forgetting all about skill and grace. Rolf brought round the Yarrickian sword two-handed. Demontfurt blocked it easily with his left and brought his right fist, wrapped around the hilt of the right sword, and punched Rolf straight in the face. 

 Rolf was knocked to the ground. 

 "You see?" Demontfurt said as he stood over the prone Rolf. "You can't depend on the skills of another. You must earn your own skills." 

 Rolf didn't reply, but slowly got to his feet. His eyes were lowered; the peak of the cap covering them, but Demontfurt saw the look of shame on Rolf's face. As Rolf spoke, Demontfurt also saw that the canines seemed more natural now. 

 "Rolf has been a fool," the young man sighed. "He couldn't see what was happening." 

 Demontfurt put a hand on Rolf's shoulder. The young man looked up and Demontfurt saw that tears was growing in the corners of Rolf's eyes. Tears of shame. Demontfurt put on a comforting and understanding smile. 

 "It's alright, Rolf. You're a good fighter none-the-less. You just need a little bit more experience, that's all. Come, I believe we both could use a good rest." 

 As the two turned to walk off the roof, they heard a weak, cracking noise. The section of marble railing that had given away hadn't fallen down yet and was hanging in front of then, four metres up in the air, slowly loosing itself from its hold. The two men looked in shock-blended horror as the large chunk of marble came loose and fell down on the roof, taking a large section of the roof with it down. 

 Unluckily, part of the roof that fell in was the place where Demontfurt and Rolf were standing. 

 The two fell down and landed hard with the back on a large table. The hunk of marble landed on the floor and caved it in, sending up dust and debris in the air. 

 The two were picking themselves up, slowly, when Tanya and a cadre of Administratum clerks and a few other commissars and officers came running in to see what had caused that racket. 

 "What the frekk?" Tanya cursed. "What are you doing, Alex?" 

 "Oh," Demontfurt said meekly, "Rolf and I were just having a bit of a discussion." 

 Tanya looked up at the hole in the ceiling and then on the large hunk of marble and the caved in floor. 

 "Discussion on what? House demolition? No wait, I'd rather not know, Alex. I'll just assume that you both need medical attention." 

 Tanya left to get some medics whilst the other men and women went to get a clean-up troop. 

 On the table, Demontfurt lay back on the table and looked up at the hole. 

 "I'm getting too old for this..." he muttered sourly. "You alive still, Rolf?" 

 "Ouch," was all the answer Alexander Demontfurt got.


	9. New World ED part 2

 Back down in the subway tunnels, McGranth, followed by Eddy and Kevin, was walking down in a corridor. It had been quiet, the grand commander thought, if it hadn't been for Kevin's incessant complaints. 

 "Y'know what I don't get?" Kevin said to the world in general. "We're supposed to be Imperial Heroes, right? So why do we get this kind of service? Checking old, unused tunnels for Necrons that might not even exist! A waste of resources and not very hero-like, if you ask me!" 

 McGranth had had enough. He spun round and stared at Kevin with his dark brown eyes. The youngster didn't flinch. 

 "Enough is frekking enough, you little piece of bethas-turd! You don't have any idea of what a frekk of a chance you've got, right? It's an Emperor-damned HONOUR to wear the power armour of the Death Angels Legion! Hear me? An honour! More so there are a lot of people in the Imperium who've died because they didn't check their backs for 'non-existent' Necrons, see? Here, it's better to be on your guard than being lax in your vigilance against the enemy! Know that!" 

 McGranth made a short pause for breath and Kevin jumped at his only chance before a new salvo. 

 "Aight, back off, muscle-monster! I just said that I wanted something else than these cosy tunnels, right? Anything is better than this! It's just not the kind of work I expected an 'Imperial Hero' to perform!" 

 McGranth had heard the insult and the inverted commas over Imperial Hero. He decided to exercise his superior rank. 

 Kevin went to the floor with a crash. As Kevin was picking himself up, he saw the faint red glow from McGranth's power axe. 

 "Emperor knows how I could trust the Terrans that you'd be any different from the Dark Lord," McGranth muttered. The grand commander raised his power axe over his head. It fell towards Kevin's head- 

 But was deflected by a clash of electrical sparks as Eddy had intercepted the blow with his lightning claw. McGranth glared at him. 

 "Out of the way, commander," McGranth growled. 

 "McGranth," Eddy said, cocking an eyebrow. "What the heck do you think you're doing?" 

 McGranth paused. Yes, what the heck was he doing? The youth on the ground, pale with fear now, looked back at him. 

 "He's not Kevlinn, despite their physical likeness, you know," Eddy said softly. 

 McGranth was about to answer when a scream pierced through the dank air of the tunnels. All thoughts on their little skirmish forgotten, the three men set off towards the side tunnel from where the scream had come. The tunnel sloped downwards and they struggled to remain upright and not trip and fall as they ran down it. 

 As the three came out of the tunnel, they saw Nazz and the Kankers up against a smaller force of Necrontyr Warriors. The leader of the group appeared to be a more human looking Necron. It carried the same kind of war-scythe that the Necron Lords used, but it wasn't a Necron Lord. It was taller, broader. 

 And there was a terrible presence surrounding it, that McGranth couldn't put his finger on. 

 The Kankers and Nazz had been engaged in close combat with the Necrons, so McGranth, Eddy and Kevin hurried to assist them. McGranth instinctively took in the surroundings. The chamber was large, probably some old track-switching station. Stalactites were hanging from the roof far above them. On the far end of the room, there was a large, sealed door, probably of adamantium crafting; with the word DANGER in large, stencilled letters in faded red paint on it. 

 Emerging from another tunnel, McGranth saw the silver-gleaming braids of Commissar Masterson's peaked cap flash slightly in the corner of his eye. The short commissar, having trouble in keeping up with the tall Ed and Charleston, was carried to the scene of battle by Charleston. As soon as they entered the chamber though, Charleston put Masterson down. The group of six now charged into the fray to assist Nazz and the Kankers. Nazz was holding off one with her silver-white sword whilst the hissing of power swords filled the air as the Kankers slashed freely at their enemies. There was no pattern in the Kankers' attacks, and McGranth guessed it to be because these Kankers weren't at home with swords. But they'd learn soon enough. 

 McGranth squared up against the leader-Necron. Masterson had yelled something about "Pariah" or something. There'd also been something about "phase sword". It didn't matter to McGranth, though. Whatever instructions the commissar had yelled, McGranth had only caught those three words. 

 McGranth charged it and forced it backwards with the momentum of his massive armoured suit. The Pariah backed against a wall and McGranth sent the power axe through its chest. He was to dish out another blow when another Necron rammed its gun-blade into him. 

 McGranth turned round and knocked the head of the Necron with a deft backhand blow of his fist. 

 Kevin saw how McGranth dropped the Necron warrior, pulverized the head of the Necron he was facing himself and began moving towards McGranth. He pulled out his mono-mol short sword. 

 "McGranth!" he shouted at the top of his voice. He needed the grand commander's attention for this. 

 McGranth turned, just as Kevin wanted him to. "I knew it!" he hissed. "You lousy little-" 

 Grand Commander Eddie McGranth never got to finish the insult. 

 Kevin's sword flew through the air... 

 And missed McGranth's shoulder pad by a centimetre, only to bury itself in the face of the Pariah, that had come to its feet behind McGranth. As McGranth turned, he saw that the hole he'd caused in the chest was gone. Nimbly, for one wearing Tactical Dreadnought Armour, McGranth brought up his power axe and knocked the Pariah's head from its shoulders, making sure to finish the job by firing his storm bolter at the flying head, blowing it into pieces. Then, he turned to Kevin. 

 "Kevin, I-" McGranth began. 

 "Yeah, yeah," Kevin interrupted. "Save the mushy stuff for later, will you? You trust me already, right?" 

 McGranth smiled softly. It was an expression he used too seldom. 

 "I hate to break up such a touching moment," Masterson broke in. "Could you two, for the sake of the Emperor, try to focus on the task at hand?" 

 Somehow, Ed had got his bolt gun ready and he was now busy taking pot shots at a couple of Necrons in front of the large door. One of the bolts went wild and punched straight through the door. 

 A few seconds later, a loud screeching sound was heard from somewhere. Everyone, human and Necron alike, stopped whatever they were doing and turned their attention towards the door. The screech was followed by a low but powerful growl that shook the room and its inhabitants. 

 "Ed," Eddy said, trying to hide the terror that shook him, "please tell me that was your stomach." 

 Ed never replied. He never got the time to. 

 The door flew out of the crevice it was fixed in. The Kankers dodged quickly out of the way of the flying door, though two Necron warriors weren't as lucky. From inside the doorway, or the cavern, two gleaming red eyes revealed themselves. The eyes were dead, emotionless. Mechanoid. 

 The heavy tread of metal feet followed as the abomination crawled out of its cavern. Large, well over thirty metres from nose to the tip of its long whipping tail, with long talons on its four-digit feet. Its head was long and reptilian, with long spikes growing out of the back of its head. Silver glittering teeth thirty centimetres long lined the edges of its mouth. To its sides, large bat-like wings with the wingspan of a Boeing B-29 "Superfortress" rested retracted as to not be in the way in the cramped cavern. 

 Despite its size, the thing was slim, snake-like. But there was no mistaking what kind of mythological creature it resembled: the fire-breathing dragon. 

 The Necrons got out of their temporary stupor and re-aimed their Gauss guns at the new, much more evident threat. They had sent out a long signal of call signs to see if the dragon would respond to Necrontyr orders. 

 It hadn't. 

 The dragon screeched again, stunning the present people and machines with a hypersonic weapon. Whilst the Necrons were still stunned, the dragon opened its maw wide-open and focused energy into a ball of green lightning. Seconds later, it launched the large ball of swirling energy as a beam of greenish lightning. The beam engulfed the Necrons and the metal-men simply dissolved into dust. 

 With the Necron threat gone, the dragon turned its attention to the humans. 

 "Uh, Masterson," Eddy whispered, tugging the commissar's sleeve. "Commissars don't flee from an enemy of the Imperium, right?" 

 "No," Masterson replied, unable to hide the abject fear in his voice, "but we do fall back, at times, to a more strategic position." 

 Just as Masterson was finishing the sentence, Ed grabbed him and jumped with him out of the way as one of the dragon's large feet came crashing down, as the thing attempted to crush them. It appeared it needed time to recharge from its electrical blast. 

 Meanwhile, Eddy found himself taking cover behind the same boulder as McGranth. 

 "Grand Commander," Eddy said with anxiety in his voice, "we could use one of your famous battle-plans right about now." 

 "Give me a minute, okay?" McGranth replied tartly. "I don't really have the experience of fighting big metal lizards." 

 Charleston was suddenly beside them. He'd overheard their comments. "It uses similar technology as the Necrontyr, so I think it should be classed big, metal lizard Necron," he said.

 Eddy and McGranth stared at him. 

 "What?" Charleston asked. 

 Their attention was brought elsewhere, suddenly and very frightingly to the far end of the cavern as Nazz screamed. 

 "Kevin! NO!" 

 Kevin had climbed up an outcropping on one end of the room, using his power fist to get a grip where there was none. He took a slight run up and jumped off the outcrop. 

 He landed on the back of the dragon's neck, right behind its head. 

 The dragon, infuriated over this flea, turned itself round and round, firing short bursts of its maw-weapon in its desperate attempts to get Kevin off. It was no use. It couldn't reach him. 

 Finally, out of pure frustration, the dragon charged out of the room and crashed headfirst through a rock wall. This brought down several stalactites from the roof. The others ducked for cover and evaded the falling stalactites to avoid getting impaled on them as they came crashing down. 

 All they could do was watch helplessly as the dragon disappeared through the tunnels, Kevin clinging on to the dragon's neck for dear life. They were soon out of sight. 

 Through the tunnels, the dragon ducked and weaved. It took several turns that Kevin thought couldn't possibly take it back to the outskirts of the city. He guessed it was going back towards Vindaree itself. 

 He was right. 

 The dragon burst into the air, shooting rubble and rocks about it as it came out from a caved in station entry. It jumped into the air and spread its wings. As it flew over the city, it caught the attention of thousands of people. Those thousands included Tanya, Demontfurt and Rolf, of which the two latter were both sporting several bandages. They had run out of the Administratum building and turned their eyes to the sky as the dragon had let out a screech again. 

 The dragon did several rolls in the air and Kevin felt he was getting a bit airsick. He pulled himself up, fixing himself firmly to the dragon's neck with him power armoured legs and knees and drew his short sword. Summoning as much power as he could, he rammed the sword as far as its blade would go, straight into the back of the dragon's head. He broke off the hilt in the process, effectively destroying the short sword, but it had served its purpose. 

 The dragon let out one last, loud screech and started to descend. Kevin hung on for dear life as the silver projectile plummeted towards the ground. This would hurt a bit, he concluded. 

 The dragon smacked into the ground of Vindaree Central Park. There wasn't much park about it anymore, but the ground was soft enough to make the impact weaker. Nonetheless, Kevin flew off the dragon and hit the ground several metres away, rolling over and over as he hit the ground. 

 He stopped rolling thanks to a sturdy tree-trunk. 

 Kevin managed to open his eyes and see Tanya, Rolf and Demontfurt coming towards him. 

 "Kevin," Rolf asked, "what is this?" 

 Kevin tried to reply, but his reply was cut off. He'd stopped it himself, because behind the three commissars, he saw how the dragon got back up on its feet and glared at him, a low growl coming from it. Tanya, Demontfurt and Rolf turned and involuntarily took a step backwards, but a sudden jolt of electricity burst out of the dragon's neck. The red glow from its eyes faded and left its eyes and the dragon finally fell to the ground with a crash. 

 Kevin stared at the dragon for a minute, trying to sit up. 

 "I gotta be insane," he chuckled lightly to himself, and passed out. 

 "My regards to you and your crew, Captain," McKenzie said as he ended the communication between his Thunderhawk and the Sword-class escort Ivanov. 

 "May the Emperor protect you, Master Lexicanum," Captain Britanova's voice crackled back over the link just seconds before the vox-link was cut. The radio gave nothing but static, so he turned it off.  

 McKenzie knew why there was static. The answer was literally staring at him. 

 As he looked out the narrow observation port of the Thunderhawk, he more than well saw the Warp-gate. It was actually quite a disgusting thing, he concluded. A swirling torrent of colours, some of which in normal space never met and blended, which hurt the eyes except of the most trained psyker. McKenzie was one. He could watch one for hours. Ordinary men would get a nosebleed. Sensitive people, that was weak-willed psykers, would get headaches. Perhaps even worse. 

 The Warp-gate, designated Secondus Prime Gate because of its size, was a huge, swollen, eye-hurting rainbow of colours... and worse. 

 As McKenzie closed his eyes, he saw other things, snapping at the borders of the gate, eager for souls, eager for blood and mortal flesh. 

 Deamons. Ready to pounce, should he lose concentration. Should his faith waver but a second. 

 "Are you two ready?" McKenzie asked over his shoulder as he steered the Thunderhawk on a course so they'd be on a safe course, just outside the Warp-gate's border. Just outside the reaches of the deamons. 

 "Ready as can be, McKenzie," Edd replied. McKenzie took one last glance at the baleful eye of the Warp-gate and joined the two Terrans. 

 "I take it none of you two have ever performed an auto-seance," McKenzie said as he plucked up a small bag held together by a leather string. He saw the questioning looks on the youngsters' faces. "As I thought. It's not much different from telepathy, and not much different from an ordinary scan. It's just that now we have to tap directly into the Warp to gain access to what we're looking for. Also, we're scanning on an area much larger than this entire sector. A sector full of latent psyker, undoubtly, but also full of Astropaths... and deamons. You both need to be fully concentrated so I can gain backup from you when I need to, okay?" 

 The two Terrans nodded slowly. Edd glanced at the leather bag McKenzie was opening and gave the Marine a very dark look. The runes were all too familiar to him. 

 McKenzie felt this. He stopped what he was doing and turned to Johnny. "Johnny, would you go back in the ship and check the gun-servitors?" 

 Johnny did what he was told without complaint or question. He'd been forced a bit by McKenzie's will too, so there was no use arguing. Edd waited till Johnny was out of earshot, but he whispered anyway. 

 "I know the Dark Runes when I see them, McKenzie," he hissed. "What the heck do you think you're doing? This is an auto-seance, not a deamon summoning!" 

 "We need the artefact to ward our souls, Edward, not for anything else," McKenzie replied calmly. 

 "Really? Give me one good reason not to smear your brains out on the wall behind you! This is heresy of the highest degree!" 

 McKenzie fixed Edd with a direct stare with his green eyes. Edd didn't flinch. He felt the full force of McKenzie mind and will at him, forcing him to agree to the use of the dark artefact. But Edd resisted. 

 In the end, McKenzie gave in. "The Eye of Tzeentch is a Sorcerer's artefact; I'm prepared to agree to that. However, Edd, it is a good way to remain alive in the Warp. At least keep your soul unharassed, as you can see things before they happen. Perhaps it's just unfathomable for you to see that you can use the dark artefacts against the Dark?" 

 "No, it's not," Edd replied. "But they are tainted. You can become tainted too. I don't want you as my adversary, McKenzie, that's all." Edd had to admit it, but if McKenzie hadn't let him go, he would've given in to McKenzie's will just a second later. 

 "I've been using them for more than three centuries, Edward. That's about the time I've spent as Master Lexicanum of my Legio. I can resist them. The Eye of Tzeentch is a relatively weak artefact and, consider this, it's the strongest one I use." 

 "Right then," Edd said. "I think we can call back Johnny now, don't you?" 

 "I'm just glad this intermezzo was solved without bloodshed. If you'd been somebody else, I don't know what the reaction might've been." 

 "You would've persuaded them into something, I believe," Edd replied with a wry smile. He felt McKenzie's psychic call for Johnny. 

 Soon enough, the three were sitting together again and McKenzie took out the Eye of Tzeentch from its resting place in the leather bag. 

 It wasn't impressive. It was an egg-shaped, green jewel, with a black slit in the middle. The black slit-line gave the jewel the look of a green, cat's eye. McKenzie carefully placed it on the table, in the absolute centre of it. 

 The then grabbed each other's hands, and McKenzie led them through the auto-seance. He'd told them what warding litany to chant, and Johnny followed Edd as McKenzie began in a language much darker. Edd ignored any thoughts he might've had. He knew he had to remain concentrated to the maximum for this to succeed. 

 McKenzie suddenly altered the litany he was chanting, and his voice went over in the softer tongue of the Eldar. Edd instantly knew why, but he didn't stop his own chanting for that. 

 McKenzie had found a trace! 

 In the Ronan system, the dark sphere of the Necrontyr moon rotated around the now derelict hive world. 

 Deep inside it, in what could be called an astrometrics laboratory, one lone figure was watching the secondary arm of the Galaxy, projected in the air. The room was totally dark, except for the tiny dots that were the stars of the galaxy. 

 The figure was tall and lanky, almost skeletal. Large, bat-like wings protruded from his back, like a metallic mockery of an angel. 

 The figure raised a long, thin arm and gestured with a hand with long, skinny fingers that ended in sharp, mono-molecular edged scalpels. The scalpels circled around a peculiarly large and bloated red giant star and zoomed in. Three purple blips appeared just close to the red giant, which changed into a smaller yellow star, just like its neighbour. 

 The figured narrowed its blood red eyes. It was eyes which long since had lost their soul and now were used only to study and observe the world with. 

 The bulky shape of Metallix moved up behind the false angel like an avengening shadow. 

 The false angel turned its head towards Metallix, and in the light from Metallix' bionic eye revealing a face criss-crossed by scars. The original flesh-tone was lost underneath a tight carpet of red scar tissue. Any Terran would've said there was a bit Freddy Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street over him. But this wasn't Freddy Krueger. This was a creature that was far worse than Freddy Krueger. 

 He preferred to be called "Damion, Arch-technologist and Biomancer of the C'tan", though few ever got further than "Damion, Ar-" where the last part was lost in intelligible screams. To most races, he was simply known as Damion. 

 A smiled cleft Damion's mutilated features. 

 "It worked, my friend," he purred. "The little trick I played on the Eldar warlock's mind worked. There they are. Ready to pluck. In fact, I expected more. Fairly stupid, these mortal species." 

 Metallix tried to smile back, but half of his face staunchly refused to. "Congratulations, brother," he said softly. "I take it you want to pluck them yourself." 

 "I only want the boy..." Damion droned dreamily. "Prepare a Harvester ship and give me a squad of Pariahs. The will make it easy enough. They are after all quite powerful, all of them." 

 McKenzie threw open his eyes and broke the auto-seance. The glow from the Eye of Tzeentch died away immediately. 

 "Yes, that's it," he said hurriedly as he tucked down the Eye. "We have to get back." 

 McKenzie had barely sealed the bag before a blast rocked the entire ship. Over at the tactical helm, a bright red light shone up, showing that the port side was severely damaged. 

 "What on Earth as that?" Edd yelped, beside himself. 

 "Rather what unearthly was that?" McKenzie said with a side-glance. He saw the crescent moon blotting out most of the Warp-gate ahead of them. "Necrons!" he hissed. 

 The Harvester ship came closer and soon enough the Thunderhawk was encircled in the crescent of the Necrontyr ship. A new warning light lit up as a tractor beam locked itself to them. At least McKenzie thought it was a tractor beam until the shields were knocked out. 

 At the back of the ship, a blue haze became visible and soon enough, the contours of the tall and broad Pariahs were visible. They immediately lowered their war-scythes and fired a fusillade of Gauss beams. McKenzie had presence of mind enough to erect a psychic barrier around himself and the Terrans. The Gauss beams dissipated against the powerful psychics. 

 McKenzie got up and tried to repel the Pariahs with psychics. He sent out a psychic bolt of electrical energy... 

 Only to see it disappear just decimetres from the Necrons. 

 The realisation struck him like a sledgehammer. 

 They were untouchables! 

 Edd had understood this too and drew his plasma pistol. Putting it on semi-auto, he fired twice and made to direct hits in two Pariahs' faces. The Necrons collapsed into immobile heaps.

 As the plasma pistol was recharging, Edd caught sight of Damion, standing behind the Pariahs, head and shoulders taller than the Necrontyr. 

 "Who invited Freddy Krueger?" Edd said astonished. 

 Damion cared not for this comment. He touched the device in his hand. Speaking in Necron, he gave the Pariahs order to advance and so they did. Damion touched the device again, keying a new sequence. The device glowed even more intently than it had before.

 The three psykers felt it like they'd been turned inside out and blown dry in the process. 

 Edd nearly fainted. Fighting the feeling of being hit by an oil tanker, he tried to get his plasma pistol ready for a new shot. A Pariah calmly walked over and smashed him unconscious with the side of its war-scythe. 

 Johnny recalled from the shock of the psychic implosion and jumped to Edd's defence. Another Pariah had moved up to assist the first one. This second Pariah made a swift backhand with its war-scythe. The butt-end of the blade caught Johnny and sent him flying into a wall, smacking him unconscious. Blood was running from his left shoulder and colouring his robes with a dark stain. His Eldarain rune-armour had offered no protection. 

 The two Pariahs grabbed Johnny firmly and carried him back to where Damion was standing. 

 Trying to get rid of the nauseating feeling he had, McKenzie drew his force sword, for what good it would do against an untouchable creature, and charged straight at the psychic abominations. 

 He swung round the sword in a deadly arc, cleaving one Pariah's head in two, before four more overwhelmed him. They drove him back. McKenzie lost his footing and was wide open. One of the Pariahs smashed its war-scythe into McKenzie's chest plate, lifted him into the air and sent him flying across the control-room. 

 McKenzie knocked his head in a control panel and one hand touched, by true dumb luck, the activation button for the distress beacon. He slowly sagged down on the floor, unconscious. 

 Before the Pariahs teleported back, Damion picked up the funny leather bag that McKenzie had been holding in. He would have much fun in finding out what it contained and what it did.


	10. Out of the Silent ED part 1

Out of the Silent ED 

"Dawn shines a light on pain untold

Scarred from the millennia

The heart that beats inside my chest is cold" 

 --Excerpt from Iced Earth's Im-Ho-Tep (Pharaoh's Curse)

**. . . . //File Call 67.3, Sub-clause: imp.his.//**

**//File Imporig66.6//**

**// Enter authorization code: . . .**

*** * * * * * * * // Validating//**

**//Thank you, Lord Inquisitor//**

**//Downloading Data//**

**//Decryption under way, Please Wait//**

**//Data File decrypted//**

**//You may proceed, milord//**

_"Precious little is known of the demi-god race of the C'tan. What are known are tiny excerpts from Imperial Chronicles from the pre-Imperial times and the small scraps of information Inquisitors have been able to gather from alien Eldar captives. _

_But what they tell is uniform. _

_The C'tan are the creators of humans and Eldar alike. They are a race of such power that they traverse the stars in blinks of an eye and deamons tremble in their shadows. They are not of a single shape, as most records tell that they are a race of pure energy. They can, however, assume mortal shape, and when they do this, their powers dwindle, but they remain nonetheless formidable. In mortal shape, they appear most often as crested and androgynous lizards, but they can assume the shape of man or Eldar as well. _

_The records say that the C'tan had been around for what the Eldar call twenty aeons, when their first-born were created: the Eldarain. _

_An aeon is, by human measures, about ten million years. That means that the C'tan had been in existence for two hundred million years when the Eldar were created. _

_The Eldarain were taught speech and culture by the demi-god C'tan, and the Eldar soon developed something typically mortal: religion. _

_They started to refer to the C'tan as Phoenix Lords and soon gave names to the C'tan who frequented the Eldar the most. They became Asuryan, Isha, Khaine and Kurnous amongst others. _

_But, with religion came beliefs of their own. The Eldar started to look to the stars and, with C'tan technology to help them, they soon flew between them. _

_Eldar records are here quite uncertain of what happened, but it is all clear that the Eldar, with their Phoenix Lords, fled from the other C'tan and founded the Eldar Empire. _

_This was roughly seventy million years ago. _

_The C'tan didn't let go of their sons and daughters so easily and a bloody war erupted. The Eldar soon enough came up with a weapon that could kill the C'tan, and broke free. Together with their Phoenix Lords, they built an empire. _

_It was not an empire to last, but that is another story. _

_The C'tan regrouped and created a new species: man. Man was less long-lived than the Eldar: barely a fraction of an Eldar lifespan. He was shorter and less graceful as well as less psychic, as the Eldar psychic ability had proved quite hard controlled. _

_But man multiplied quicker and was, if such a word could be used, more durable. _

_The C'tan, wise from the damage caused, refrained from appearing early to man. Some old chronicles states that the C'tan took Eldar blood and mixed with the Galaxy's only true race, the Orks, but this is probably nothing but insane ravings. To claim that man is part Ork, part Eldar is ludicrous. _

However, the humans quickly developed a language and a culture without the C'tan, though they proved more prone to violence than the Eldar had. The C'tan showed themselves to the humans and as with the Eldar, they were soon worshipped as gods. 

_But, just as with the Eldar, as soon as the humans had developed spacial flight, they fled. This time, the C'tan left well enough alone and let the humans, together with a handful C'tan, by humans called Paladins, go for their own future. _

_The rest is Imperial History. _

_Little is known what happened to the C'tan after that. They were still weak from the Eldar war. No one truly knows. _

_But the Imperial scientists have found numerous pyramids in various places that display a certain likeness in artisanship to the Eldar constructions. _

_Still, though, the question remains if the C'tan are extinct or if our former masters only are biding their time until they come back and claim us as theirs."_

                         _--Excerpt from **'An overview of Imperial pre-history'** by the Heretic Felix Rovannion, burned at the stake for his heresy by Inquisitor Lesch Sparda. _

McKenzie opened his eyes and looked around. He was stripped of his armour, naked except for a loincloth. All around him, a vast wasteland spread out. It was completely devoid of features. Just flat, brown ground. 

And the worst was, he was all alone. 

"Where is this?" McKenzie thought silently to himself. 

The sky was dark. McKenzie called out, but received no answer. Not even an echo. 

He looked around again and saw a figure in the distance. As there was no sun, he couldn't even guess what direction it was. McKenzie started to walk towards the figure. As he got closer, he saw that its outline resembled Johnny a lot. 

By the God-emperor! It was Johnny! 

"Johnny!" McKenzie called out. "Are you okay? Where's Edd?" 

Perhaps Johnny hadn't heard him, because the figure made no attempt to show it had noticed him. Most surely he hadn't noticed McKenzie, so McKenzie started running towards him instead, the soft ground meeting his bare feet gently, with no hint of giving him a surprise. 

"Johnny," McKenzie called again, "what's wrong?" 

When McKenzie was a few metres from Johnny, the boy turned round and looked straight at the Space Marine. McKenzie stopped dead. Johnny's face was distorted, his nose and mouth growing into what could resemble a beak and his skin pulsed with all the colours of the rainbow. 

"Johnny," McKenzie breathed, "w-what?" This couldn't be! 

Johnny started to walk towards McKenzie and for every step Johnny's face became more and more beak-like. His hair turned to multicoloured feathers and the feathers sprouted elsewhere on his body too. Two vestigial, feathery wings were starting to grow from Johnny's back. 

And during this mutation, the eyes remained human. 

McKenzie backed up, trying to keep the distance from the creature that was Johnny and still not. There was a lot of the greater deamon of Tzeentch over Johnny now. 

"What's going on?" McKenzie silently asked himself. The Johnny-thing had heard him. 

"Isn't it obvious, McKenzie?" the thing hissed, its snake-tongue slithering around the word in Low Gothic, as if unused to speak it. They voice had been low, but very loud at the same time. McKenzie thought he felt blood running from his ears. 

"Johnny, what are you doing?" McKenzie asked. He felt panic crawling in him now. 

"Don't you see, McKenzie?" the Johnny-thing hissed. "This is how I was supposed to be, before you blunted me. I can feel the raw power of the Warp growing inside of me every second. It's just so wonderful, don't you think?" 

"Johnny, stop!" McKenzie shouted, unable to hide the horror in his voice. 

The Johnny-thing just laughed, deeply and coldly. No, it wasn't laughter... The thing was giggling with glee, not laughing. 

"No, McKenzie," it said after its fit of glee. "You can't stop this. You can't protect me, not anymore than you could protect George McKenzie." 

McKenzie stumbled and fell on his back. The Johnny thing was truly a Lord of Change now, standing well over three metres. 

"Johnny?" McKenzie silently whispered. 

The thing had gotten a sorcerer's staff from somewhere and raised it high into the air. It spoke again, but McKenzie knew it wasn't Low Gothic anymore. This was the deamon-tongue. And damn him, he understood all. What had he done? 

The Johnny-thing focused power into the sorcerer's staff and a ball of lightning was forming at its top now. 

"You'll never protect anyone again," it said slowly in its cursed tongue. McKenzie didn't want to hear more. This was how the Emperor punished him for his treason and heresy to study the Dark Arts. 

The Johnny-thing turned round its staff and directed it at McKenzie. The lightning gathered and a bolt of pure energy shot at him. 

No! 

McKenzie sat bolt upright and gasped. He fought hard not to scream. Damn him! He was a Space Marine! They knew no fear! They knew no fear! 

He looked around. He was in the medical bay of a spaceship: that much he understood from the interior and the view port that showed the glitter of distant stars. 

He sat in a medical cot, sweating and panting. It took him a minute to realise that he wasn't alone. McGranth sat next to his bed on a stool, stripped of his armour. McKenzie stared at his commander. McGranth just smiled back. 

"About frekking time you woke up, pal," McGranth said softly. 

McKenzie took another look around. He was definitely in the medical bay of a star ship, probably a battle cruiser. He looked back at McGranth. 

"What?" 

"We picked up a distress signal from somewhere around that Warp-gate you visited and found the Thunderhawk you'd borrowed drifting around by itself in space. That was two days ago." 

"Two days?" McKenzie said in shock. 

McGranth nodded thoughtfully. "What the frekk happened out there anyway?" 

"We located the Necrontyr Mothership, or whatever you could call it, but we were ambushed." McKenzie was silent for a while. "They took Johnny with them." 

"I figured that much," McGranth said softly and nodded. "How many were they?" 

"It didn't matter, Eddie. They were Untouchables. And their leader used some sort of anti-psyker weapon. Knocked us out in a flash." 

"Big scary monstrosities with strange scythes?" McGranth asked. 

"Yes." 

"That would be Pariahs then. Encountered one on Callidus after you left." 

"What?" 

"Long story and it doesn't matter," McGranth said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He leant forward and sighed heavily. "Great. Now we have to rescue Johnny too. As if we didn't have enough to do already." He sighed again. 

There was a pause. 

"Eddie, what has happened in the last two days?" McKenzie asked. 

"Well, after picking you up, Tanya was nigh on hysterical. The Necrons had never dared something like that so early after a failed raid. So we all came up with this plan to gather sixty per cent of the remaining Imperial forces for one last big blow. You'll get the details later, okay?" 

McKenzie nodded his assention. "Is Edd okay?" 

"What? Double D? He's fine. Came to earlier than you, anyway." 

McGranth got up. "So, as soon as you feel that you're all here, Edward, hurry up and get ready. I need your report of what happened, officially, because we have a lot of work to do." 

With that, McGranth left his friend alone on the medical bay. 

A few days later, when all information available had been gathered, the highest-ranking officers in the Imperial force gathered aboard Mishkin's Pride. The briefing was held in one of the transport bays as there was so many present. Canoness Alyssia Demontfurt alone represented the highest will of the Adepta Sororitas, though several Sister Superiors accompanied her. 

Commissar Cadet Jorun was there as well, on Masterson's instruction. 

Tanya Yarrick stood before a hololithic display of the sector they were passing through and used her finger to show the places she referred to. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began. "Master Lexicanum McKenzie of the Death Angels Space Marines Legion has declined to go into specifics, but he has discovered the current location of the Necrontyr Mothership. Due to its shape, we've coined the call sign Sphere on it. 

"We have strong belief that the Sphere is the core of the Necron's strength. If it is taken out, then we surely will be able to destroy the Necron forces for good, with little or no opposition." 

Tanya touched a few runes on the hololithic projector and the picture zoomed in on a lone planet. It was situated at the fringe of the Imperium. A lone, green planet. 

"This is Arborkar, once a Jungle World made training site for the Space Marines. No longer in use, the people of it has abandoned it since long. However, it is the perfect place to have a base, as nobody would look in an abandoned system, right?" 

There was some laughter from the assembled. 

"Jokes aside," Tanya hushed them. "This will be a three-pronged assault. For those of you who don't speak the language known as Army, that means a simultaneous attack on three fronts. I scarcely believe even the inhuman Necrons can handle something as that. 

"Now," Tanya said and showed a picture of the Sphere, "Admiral Ourmnoff, under the scrutiny of Colonel-commissar Demontfurt, will lead an assault that will combat the Sphere and its protecting Harvester-ships. Keep your ships in one piece, Admiral. We'll need them later on." 

The holo-display changed back to Arborkar. 

"The Necrons also have a very sizeable force on the ground as well. The idea is to lure them to send at least eighty percent of their forces to Arborkar's surface, where Colonel-commissar Masterson and Canoness Alyssia will meet them with las and bolters. May the Emperor protect you in your work. 

"However, these two massive assaults are only there to distract the Necrons from the true... incision." Tanya shifted the screen back to the Sphere. "Grand Commander McGranth will, together with me, lead an assault team to infiltrate and destroy, or disable, the Sphere from the inside." 

"Excuse me, ma'am," Jorun said and raised a hand, but lowered it when he saw Tanya's urging look. "How are you going to get inside the ship?" 

Tanya smiled softly. "This is how." 

She touched another rune and a Necrontyr pyramid, on Arborkar's surface, came into view. 

"This appears to be a Necron structure and this is but one of four on Arborkar's surface. They are small but we have strong reasons to believe they contain phase technology that we can use for teleportation. The plan is to secure one such structure and use the Necron's technology against them.

"The Terrans and the officers of the Adeptus Astartes stay here, you others are dismissed." 

The large group of men and women walked out and left Tanya alone with the Terrans. She turned off the holo-display and then turned to the Terrans. 

"The High Council doesn't support this mission, as usual, so it is entirely voluntary. If you don't want to go, then do so, but nobody will think less of you for that." 

None of the Terrans moved a muscle. 

Tanya smiled wryly. "As I thought. Very well, we leave in two hours for ground-fall, so get as ready as you can. You all seem to want to go, so if you're not aboard a transport within two hours, that's your problem." 

The Terrans fell out and left Tanya alone to talk some matters over with McKenzie, McGranth and Charleston. 

The young Terrans walked together to the transport bay, Eddy walked up beside Nazz. Her tight-fitting power-armour only served to make her the more beautiful. Sadly, for Eddy, Nazz wasn't one bit interested in him. 

"So, Nazz," Eddy said and applied a soft smile, "are you coming with us to the Commissar General's ship?" 

"Actually," Nazz replied and looked Eddy straight in the eyes, "the Kankers and I will be fighting on the ground, together with Commissar Masterson and Canoness Demontfurt." 

"Why's that, Nazz?" Kevin asked, coming up beside her, much to Eddy's chagrin. 

It turned even worse for him as Lee Kanker moved up next to him, so that he had Nazz on his right and Lee on his left. 

"What? Are you nuts?" Lee asked caustically. "No way we're gonna let some machine pull us apart, piece by piece, and send us shooting into space. We'll be just fine on the ground, thank you."

"What is this?" Eddy asked with a wry smile. "Are you actually afraid, Lee Kanker? Hmmm?" 

"Heck no!" Lee replied, sounding hurt. "I just wouldn't want to ruin my good looks for you, dreamboat." 

"Touché!" Kevin smiled and he and Nazz chuckled together over Lee's deft reply. Eddy just blushed and rolled his eyes. 

"Oh, brother..." he muttered and moved away from the other three to find his two true friends. 

Two hours later, the Imperial Battlefleet Moskva engaged the Necrontyr ships defending the Sphere. This was enough distraction for the transport ships to get close enough to send off their cargo of drop ships. If one had been standing on Arborkar's surface and looked up, one would've seen the sky darken with Imperial drop ships, carrying nearly one million Imperial Guard, one Demi-order of Sisters of Battle and two squads of Space Marines that had been called together for this last stand of Humanity. 

Strapped up in the drop ship, Tanya spoke to the volunteers for the incisive mission over the inter-com of the rebreathers that they had to wear during the decent. 

The Volunteer group consisted of McGranth, McKenzie, Charleston, the Eds, Rolf and Kevin. 

"Right," Tanya said, addressing them all, "Once we get inside the Sphere, there will be three main objectives: 

"One: Fine, and rescue Johnny, and any other prisoners that the Necron might still have. Also, destroy or neutralize this new weapon of theirs. Hold on; make that 'psychic prisoners'. The others might be too many. Remember this well! This is a last stand for Humanity, not some liberty front for slaves! There just isn't the time for everybody. So, only the psykers, because they are the greatest threat to us. 

"Two: Find the Sphere's engines, or similar and attach melta bombs to them. These can be detonated as we leave. 

"Three: Find whatever it is that this Metallix uses to control his hordes and destroy it. Don't neutralize, but destroy it!" 

Tanya looked around as to see that everybody had understood. They all nodded their assention. 

"Master Lexicanum McKenzie and Epistolary Edd will handle the locate and rescue mission, Eagle One. Commander Charleston and Lieutenant Commander Ed will deal with the engines. Thus, that leaves the seek and destroy mission for Grand Commander McGranth, Commander Eddy, Captain Kevin, Commissar Rolf and myself." 

"That'll be all for now. Keep radio silence until we've hit the ground, which will come with a blast, so keep you eyes on the altitude meter and brace yourselves when it goes down to zero. All right? May the Emperor protect us all." 

He hadn't been able to move for days. And all he remembered before being strapped to this cold, metal gurney was a bright stabbing lance of pain in his head. 

Johnny Two-by-four looked around. He couldn't move a single centimetre but his head was free to turn. He saw Plank lying by one of his sides. There was no use trying to grab him, Johnny knew that much. He turned his head to the other side and got a look of abject horror on his face. 

He saw two huge figures: one broad and powerful, the other one slim and lithe. Both were almost thoroughly made of metal. 

Johnny knew all too well whom both were. They spoke to each other in a language Johnny couldn't understand, but it scared him infinitely more than the deamon's voice he'd heard on Secondus.

"How soon will it be ready?" Metallix asked his kinsman. 

"In short," Damion replied. "Just a few more connections to make. You must understand this is delicate work!" 

"Of course. Is it going to work, though?" 

"Surely," Damion replied with confidence. "The Boy has reserves of psychic energies that I've never seen before. This will be like trying to empty an ocean with a spoon. He's the perfect power source." 

Metallix glanced over at Johnny and grinned. The biological part of his face contorted into something malicious and Johnny immediately looked away. 

"Soon," Metallix purred, "very soon I will rule them all, as it was destined to be." 

Metallix suddenly extended a finger and plugged himself into the Sphere's senses. Before his eyes, he saw how the Imperial Fleet came out of the Warp in a rainbow of colour. As the Warp-glare died away, he saw the scale of the attack. He ordered his Harvesters to engage and dispatched a good two million Necrontyr to the surface. Thanks to the phase mechanics, they'd be ready for those foolish humans. That they never learned that they were created to obey and not to lead? 

"So," Metallix said to himself, ignoring Damion's presence, "they choose to fight. I knew they would. That's how they function. It doesn't matter, they will only die that much sooner. They're after all only mortals." 

Metallix disconnected and turned to Damion. "Contact me the moment it's online." 

With that, Metallix stormed off to his 'chambers'. From there he'd watch the slaughter of the last vestiges of human defence and stubbornness. 

As he strode through the corridors, a soft smile cleft his biological face-half. "This is what I was meant to do," he said to himself. "This is my destiny!" 

As Battle Fleet Moskva engaged the Harvesters, the drop pods were ejected and begun their screaming descent to the surface. Like flaming balls of death, the drop ships slammed into Arborkar's surface, opening and disgorging hundreds of thousands of Imperial Guardsmen and a good two hundred Sisters of Battle. Now or never, the human's were prepared to sell their lives dearly. 

Tanya and McGranth led their group to the pyramid after wishing Masterson, Canoness Demontfurt, Nazz and the Kankers good luck over the vox-link. The sheer force of firepower they rained down on the Necrons as they approached the pyramid was frightening for coming from ten people. They avoided close combat with the many more Necrons and relied on blowing their head's to bits, effectively making it impossible for the iron men to self-repair. 

After fifteen minutes they reached the pyramid and gained access. 

"Finally," McGranth sighed. "So, how do we do this?" 

McKenzie looked around. "I have a bad feeling about this..." 

McKenzie's hunch proved right. A large, peculiar Necron appeared from inside the pyramid. It's fingers were long, sharp claws and it's lower half was that of a giant robot serpent. 

Charleston raised his plasma pistol and fired. Nanoseconds before the shot would've hit, the Necron went out of phase and shifted itself out of harm's reach. 

"What the frekk..." Charleston mumbled silently. He never got chance for a new shot as the wraith-Necron knocked him flat with its tail. 

"Deal with it!" McKenzie shouted as he dove for what he took for Necrontyr controls. He needed to get the data-wires ready and the Emperor-damned data-slate to be able to do anything. 

Edd was quick to respond to McKenzie's order and drew his force sword. He saw McGranth attack the Necron-wraith with his power axe, only to see it shift and knock McGranth over the head. It toyed likewise with Kevin, Ed and Eddy. By then, Edd had placed himself between the Wraith and Tanya. He registered a tiny tingling feeling as the Wraith shifted and knew what to look for now, or rather what to feel for. 

Edd squared up with it and charged the force sword with psychic energy, but instead of releasing it in one big blast, he restrained it and spun round just as the Wraith shifted. 

The psychically charged sword connected with the Wraith's head in a spray of sparks and metal shards. 

The beheaded body of the Wraith fell to the ground with a heavy thud. 

McKenzie hadn't even looked up from his work during this. He keyed in a short sequence and looked up. 

"I think I've got it. Put your helmets or rebreathers on." 

They all did as they'd been told, but as Kevin locked his beak-like helmet in place, he suddenly asked, "Wait! Whaddya mean you 'think you've got it'?" 

McKenzie never replied as a greenish light engulfed them and swept them away from Arborkar's surface. 

The green light reappeared on the Sphere, close to another teleportation site. 

"Dude," Kevin said weakly, "We have go to stop doing things like that." There was a slight green colour to his face. 

McGranth gave him a quick glance, but otherwise made no notice of Kevin's comment. 

McKenzie seemed puzzled by something and reached up and removed his helmet. "There's a stabile atmosphere here. Nitrogen-oxygen. Highly breathable, but a bit thin and stale." The rest of the group followed McKenzie's exampled and removed their helmets and rebreathers. 

"Let's get on with it, before we're detected." McGranth said to the assembled people. "You all know your objectives, so get to it. We'll meet back here once the objectives are achieved, not sooner. Try to stay in vox-contact. Use channel Epsilon-Delta-Sigma." 

With that, McKenzie and Edd headed off in one direction, Charleston and Ed took another, whilst McGranth, Tanya, Rolf, Eddy and Kevin headed a third way.


	11. Out of the Silent ED part 2

Ed and Charleston made double-time down a corridor, trying to lose the Necron's they'd just engaged in a close-quarter firefight. Charleston was getting very worried over the way he had to treat his plasma pistol. More Necron's and it would perhaps overheat. He flicked it back to single-shot mode from semi-auto. 

They came to a ledge that ended in nothing but a seemingly bottomless pit. They dodged to one side each as the Necron's caught up with them. 

The two Necrons that had been following them failed to notice this evident lack of surface under feet and fell through the empty void beyond. Some two hundred metres down, they collided with a metal ridge the snaked along the wall on the other side. It resembled a road, but much to vertical to be one. 

Barely a metre from the ridge, the Necron went into electrical spasms, shuddered and went limp. Their eyes dulled and their bodies fell ever downwards. 

"Well," Charleston said lightly, "now we know at least how many Volts course through those ridges." 

"How many?" Ed asked eagerly. 

"At least 10.000 Volts. The Necrons didn't even touch the ridges, so..." 

The two power armoured warriors looked around. They saw a gigantic tunnel of sorts; metal ridges interconnected and ran all around them into space. The ridges led downwards and upwards around them in a seemingly endless black abyss. 

"Great," Charleston sighed. "I just bet the engine room is somewhere down there." He pointed downwards. "Well, if that's where they are, that's where we're going! Ready to fly, Lieutenant Commander?" 

"Yes sir!" 

The two activated their jump packs and began to descend, carefully avoiding the ridges that snaked downwards. 

As they'd descended for about two hundred metres, a group of Destroyer Necrons appeared just below them. However, instead of using a hover system to suspend them in mid-air, their lower bodies seemed to have been modified to allow them to follow the magnetic traction of the ridges of metal, riding on the electrical current, without touching the ridges even. 

The group of Mag-destroyers approached the two power armoured warriors. 

Charleston and Ed didn't hesitate. Ed drew his bolter and Charleston his plasma pistol. The fired a volley down at the approaching Destroyers and took out a few of them, but more came to reinforce their comrades immediately from below. Charleston and Ed sped up their descent, continuing to fire at their enemies. They synchronized themselves. Charleston fired when Ed reloaded and Ed fired whilst Charleston waited for his plasma pistol to recharge. 

Charleston threw a quick glance to one side as he descended and saw several ridges that veered away from the others, probably to the engine room and came up with a rather interesting idea. 

Charleston accelerated and landed himself on one of the Destroyers. He pulled his power sword and slashed off its upper torso. He grabbed the falling torso by one arm and flung it against another Destroyer. The second destroyer was knocked off balance, its gyrocompass disturbed and tumbled into contact with the electrical railing. The two went in a bloom of purple fire. 

Ed landed on the lower part of the Destroyer's body just behind Charleston to see the big Marine start to fiddle with the wiring. Charleston connected one of the lose wires to his left wrist armour, through a minimal socket in the armour. 

"Bingo," Charleston muttered. 

"Huh?"

"I tapped into the sucker's gyro-compass computer, or whatever, and it seems to know where the engines are, so it's gonna take us there." 

"How?" 

"I drive this with octadecimal equations. Easy. I drive, you shoot!" 

Charleston holstered his plasma pistol. He was kneeling over the place where the Destroyer's torso had been, looking like a gothic, cyberpunk version of a skateboarder, whilst Ed stood, albeit a bit unsteadily, right behind him. Charleston fiddled with the wires a bit more and glanced at Ed. 

"Hang on." 

"To what?" Ed asked with what sounded like incredulity. 

"Anything," Charleston replied, not moved by this. 

Ed hung on for dear life to Charleston free arm as the Destroyer body moved forward at an alarming speed. It raced along the ridges, sometimes going up, sometimes down, making rapid turns at places so that Ed lost his orientation completely. 

From behind, more Mag-destroyers were coming up against them. Ed unloaded his bolter in their heads, dropping several. But a few of them were getting a bit too close. 

One managed to grab Charleston's arm, the one that was connected to the Necron's body. Charleston rewarded it with the back of his fist. 

The head of the Mag-destroyer came off and bounced on a neighbouring ridge, sparking. Its body soon followed. 

Ed had pulled out his power sword and was alternating with firing at the Destroyers one-handed with his bolter and using the crackling power sword on the close ones. 

They finally reached a horizontal corridor, still followed by several Necrons. The Mag-destroyers fired their heavy Gauss canons constantly at the two power armoured Heroes of the Imperium. Charleston deftly dodged the salvoes. 

"Hah!" Charleston shouted at the iron men. "Nobody outmanoeuvres me!" 

The end of the corridor approached them at an alarming speed and a large portal on a ledge came into view. 

Suddenly, a swarm of Necrons appeared through the portal in front of them. Charleston dared a glance backwards to see that their pursuers had gained numbers as well. 

They were getting boxed in. 

"Ed," Charleston said calmly, "get the bag out of my pack by my waist." 

Ed removed a large bag from Charleston's waist, opened it and found that it contained a melta bomb. It looked like an oversized krak grenade with a handle. 

"Oi! Ed!" Charleston said to call the young man's attention again. "Ever seen a ten car pile up?" 

Ed just shook his head. 

Charleston fiddled with the wires, made himself loose the, grabbing hold of Ed, jumped off. 

The destroyer-body they'd rode with continued its surge forward and rammed into the line of Mag-destroyers ahead of it. The rear line didn't react fast enough and rammed straight into the front line as well. 

The two groups of Mag-destroyers smashed into a ball of metal, lost control as their gyrocompasses temporarily went offline and one or two touched the metal ridge. 

Electricity surged through them all, destabilized their Gauss weaponry and they went up in a greenish bloom of fire. 

Having forgotten his jump pack, Charleston came tumbling down, grabbed the ledge with one hand, and caught Ed with the other, who in turn held the melta bomb in its handle with his free hand. 

"Well," Charleston smiled, "that was a fifty car pile up. Emperor, I love this job!" 

Charleston hefted up Ed onto the ledge and then climbed up himself. 

Down on Arborkar's surface, the battle between Man and Machine raged. The Sphere hung like a cataracted grey eye above them all. Every man and woman knew that they were fighting for the survival of Humanity as a free race. Gauss beams hit flesh and atomised it, whilst bolts hit metal skulls and exploded them like overripe fruit. 

Nazz, Lee, May and Marie kept close together. Nazz had her brightly silver-glittering sword out, battling it out against a Flayed One. 

One Necron Warrior charged straight at May, but she caught him. She held on, and they got caught in a shoving match. It ended abruptly as May raised her flamer to the Necron's head one-handed, pointed it at its skull and pulled the trigger. 

The metal skull melted and trickled down on the ground where it scorched the grass. 

Marie was busy covering them all with well-placed shots from her bolt pistol. 

Lee pulled out her rapier-like power sword, facing off against an Immortal. Lee was getting frustrated, and she guessed it was the same for the iron man. Neither of them seemed to get anywhere. 

Finally, Lee had had enough. 

"Oh, for crying out loud!" she shouted and reared back her right hand, bundling it to a fist. She socked the Necron with everything she got fly in the face. 

When she pulled her arm back, the face of the Immortal was almost completely caved in. Lee, using the adrenaline kick the punch had given her, picked the heavy droid up and heaved it towards a group of Necrons that had been charging in to assist it, knocking them flat. 

She felt a faint throb in her knuckles, but the most of her armoured gauntlet had taken the blow quite well. 

Several hundred metres away, amongst the Imperial Guard, Commissar Cadet Jorun went down a Gauss gunshot atomised half of his gut. Masterson was by his side in a flash. 

"Jorun!" Masterson panted and tried to grab hold of the youth, but Jorun fought against him. "You'll be fine, boy, I promise you'll be!" 

Jorun shook his head. "No! If it's the Emperor's Will that I am to die here and now, so be it, sir." 

Masterson looked down on him. Jorun's eyes were already fading. 

"Emperor bless you, Jorun," Masterson said softly as Jorun drew his last rasping breath through crisped lungs. Masterson threw a quick salute to the dead boy, took off his dog tags and hung them around his own neck, as a lucky charm. 

He pulled out his power axe and, bellowing an Imperial Hymn, Masterson charged straight into the midst of iron men. 

Many Imperial Guardsmen rallied around the raging commissar and joined him in his charge and proclamation of Faith. 

Back up on the Sphere, McKenzie and Edd were running down another corridor, though not with a Necron in sight. The surroundings slowly went over from fairly well lit corridors to dark, menacing ones. McKenzie made a quick scan of his surroundings and registered a psychic signal. It was powerful, very powerful, and alien. 

He took to the right in a crossing, followed by Edd, and came into a corridor lined with cells. McKenzie felt that the cells had no need of bars or force fields when they generated psychic null-zones instead. 

They passed several empty cells. McKenzie stopped before the one cell that was occupied. He made a quick scan for other psychic signatures, but none. 

There was an aged figure in tattered dark brown robes sitting on the floor. McKenzie peered closer at the frail figure and a look of shock crossed his face. It was partly from the psychic force he registered, even through the null-zone, partly from that the creature was an eldar. 

How in the name of the Throne had the Necrons gotten hold of an eldar? A farseer lord, most surely too. 

McKenzie didn't know and didn't care. 

He'd soon enough managed to crack the code lock to the cell-field. McKenzie walked into the cell and knelt beside the eldar. The creature stirred and looked up, revealing an aged face, so very thin and wrinkled. His thin, white hair was as well very long. But there was a certain twinkle in his dark eyes that said the mind was still very able to do its stuff. 

"Oh," the eldar said as it saw McKenzie's features, " hello there, mon-keigh." 

"Excuse my rudeness, lord farseer," McKenzie said and bowed his head, "but who are you, and how did you come to be here?" 

"My name," the eldar said and straightened himself, "is Farseer Lord Uryanaar of Craftworld Vurupano. And I was on Vurupano until those machines came along, that is. They killed many of my kin, but for some reason, the kept me alive. As their minds are unreadable even for me, I have not the faintest idea why this is." 

Edd, who'd been keeping watch, broke in suddenly, "Lord Farseer, can you stand? I have a feeling we should get out of here." 

"Of course," Uryanaar replied in his fine flowing Low Gothic. "I should be able to manage." 

Slowly, and stiffly, Uryanaar got to his feet and began to walk forward. The two humans were amazed at his actual height. Nigh on two metres fifty, rivalling Charleston. Under his dark brown robes, McKenzie saw the intricate weave of rune armour. The Necrons hadn't even bothered to remove it then? Fool on them, McKenzie thought grimly. 

As they made their way down the corridor, McKenzie felt a tingling sensation and drew his bolt pistol. Edd followed lead and pulled his plasma pistol. 

"Come," McKenzie said and lead the way, "I can feel we're not far away from Johnny." 

"Who?" Uryanaar asked. 

"A friend," Edd explained, "he needs our help." 

They soon came across a large, circular room. A gigantic device was set up in the middle of it. The device sported thing that made Edd give an involuntary shiver. All around there was metal tables, like those slabs found in a morgue. People were strapped to several of them, odd needles, like spikes, inserted into the backs of their necks. 

"Cosy," Edd mumbled, "if you're Hannibal Lecter." 

Then he, and McKenzie and Uryanaar, saw who was lying on the slab right in front of the horrible dissection device. Plank was on his right side, and Niire on the left. 

"Johnny!" Edd shouted and was about to move forwards when McKenzie's arm stopped him. 

"I'll get him," McKenzie said to answer Edd's questioning look. "Try to release the others." 

As McKenzie moved towards Johnny, he saw that the boy had a gag over his mouth for some reason. Johnny, awoken by the presence of three alpha-plus level psykers, started and began to mumble at McKenzie through the gag. He seemed very agitated over something. The slight oppressive feeling McKenzie had felt at his mind, but knocked aside, made itself known again. Something was blocking him, but what? 

"Johnny, calm down," McKenzie said as he leant down to make Johnny free. "What are you trying to tell me?" 

There was a crash just next to him as Edd flew into the wall, back first. Edd slid down on the ground with a thud. 

McKenzie wheeled around and drew his force sword instinctively. 

Damion stood just inside the entrance, five Pariah bodyguards right behind him. He spoke in a menacing alien tongue that McKenzie couldn't understand for two credits, but the sadistic look on his face told the Master Lexicanum all he needed to know. 

"Oh," McKenzie sighed, "that."


	12. And Then There Was ED part 1

...And then there was ED

"Spectral forces of Mankind

 We're all trapped inside the core of the Machine

 Our time has come to find a way back home"

 --From HammerFall's Riders of the Storm

McGranth led his force down the hallway. It was lit up by strange bluish torches. Hadn't Seb and Charleston described something similar on Armageddon? Didn't matter. They were getting close to the control room now. McGranth could feel it like a tingling sensation down his spine. He wasn't a psyker, but years of warfare had taught him when the end got near, the enemy's resistance became more and more frustrated.

And the Necron's defence was truly frustrated now, if such a word could be used.

The Necron warriors that stormed at them were tossed through the air like rag-dolls. McGranth made very certain that their power-armoured friends protected Tanya and Rolf.

"Just how many of these things are there?" Kevin said as he pulped the head of a Necron warrior with his power fist. He quickly swung round and smashed the head of another one, then turned and crushed the skull of a third. God, he was beginning to like this!

"Too many," Rolf grunted as he was staggered backwards by the bulk of a lone Immortal. He quickly retaliated with a deft slash of his sword that cleft the Necron Immortal's head in twain.

"Keep going," Tanya urged as she pushed past Rolf. McGranth soon came up behind her, protecting her vulnerable flank with the bulk of his Terminator armour.

They past many chambers and smaller rooms, but kept going. McGranth led them solely by his gut feeling for where their goal was. And the feeling that had proved him right the past five hundred years didn't fail him.

They had entered the room where the Grand Controller resided. The massive crystal pulsed as with an inner life, but there wasn't that sickly shade to it that it would've had, if it had been deamon possessed. No, this was a mechanical monster. A supercomputer of sorts, no doubt.

"That's gotta be it," Eddy said matter-of-factly.

"Then we destroy it," Rolf replied flatly.

Rolf approached the crystalline computer with determination shining in his eyes. When he was a few metres from it, the opposite wall slid away into the ceiling, and revealed Metallix flanked by a small horde of Immortals. McGranth's first head count got them to be around twenty.

"Easier said than done, Rolfie-boy," Eddy said with a wry smile. Rolf glared back at him.

"Are you a coward, Ed-boy?"

"At heart, well, yes, perhaps," Eddy replied with a shrug. "So what are you gonna do? Shoot me?"

"Don't tempt me, Ed-boy," Rolf muttered back. "Don't tempt me."

"Go for the crystal," Tanya shouted to Eddy and Kevin. "We'll hold them off!" She pulled her sword and charged in at Metallix, Rolf coming from behind to protect her. The Immortals effortlessly dispersed between the two and headed straight for the other three. These two were for their Lord. As if he couldn't deal with a couple of flesh-beings?

Tanya and Rolf flew at Metallix from two different angels. Sparks flew threw the air as Metallix easily blocked their blows with his massive forearms. It made swings at them, trying to catch their heads and either knock them out or squash them to a mushy pulp.

Somehow, Tanya and Rolf managed to drive Metallix backwards, forcing it into the room it'd appeared from. The wall shut itself behind them, leaving McGranth, Kevin and Eddy alone to face Immortals alone.

With a roar of anger, the threesome ploughed into the iron men.

Charleston and Ed had now entered the engine room. It was far from anything Ed had ever seen before. The walls were covered in strange hieroglyphs, gilt and soft to the touch, pleasing to the eye. This was perhaps as far from Chaos one could get. It was, in lack of other words, perfection. Ed silently reflected it was good that Edd wasn't here. He would've flipped at the sight of all the machinery. He would've forgotten their true mission.

Charleston walked forward to the core of the huge fusion reactor. He studied it and smiled.

"Not really your average tokamak, eh?" he said over his shoulder. Ed turned to look at the Commander.

"What?"

"Know what this is?" Charleston said and thumbed at the reactor shielding.

Ed shook his head.

"These metal bastards have found a way to extract energy from a singularity. Know what that means?"

Ed shook his head again.

"They've got a pet black hole. Hand me those melta bombs now, will ya? We're here to destabilise it."

Ed put down the pack and started to pull out the melta bombs from it. They'd already used one to get into the engine room. He handed them to Charleston one at a time. Charleston primed them and slammed them into place along the ridges of the reactor. All in all, ten bombs are placed on the reactor shell.

With each bomb, Charleston punches in a code and awaits confirmation from the little melta bomb CPU. When finished, he pulls out a remote control and puts it on the same frequency as the bombs: 45 THz.

He punches in the activation code and awaits confirmation from each of the ten bombs. When the last beep is heard, Charleston punches in another code, the code to throw off the safety of the melta bombs.

"There, that's it." Charleston says and put the remote on his left forearm for easy access when he's to blow the engines.

"What was that?" Ed asked.

"All those bombs are now tied to the remote. They can't be removed unless I say so and can't blow up unless I say so. I press in the detonation code, and the fireworks begin. Let's just hope we destabilise the black hole and not just set it free, eh?" Charleston smiled a reassuring smile, and Ed laughed nervously. "Come on, let's get back to the others."

They left the room, ignited the fusion reactors of their jump packs and flew off.

McKenzie was staring at the abomination in front of himself. He'd seen it before. Called itself Damion. What its name was didn't matter to McKenzie. To him, it was the vilest thing this end of the Warp. What scared him weren't Damion's looks.

No, what frightened McKenzie was its total lack of psychic signature.

Behind McKenzie, Edd was slowly getting to his feet. Uryanaar had managed to duck out of the way, despite his old bones. He was now busy untying all the other psykers, because they were all, in fact, psykers. As he reached the end of the row, he was facing a dark green skinned thing that looked like a lizard. A human mutant of all things. The mutant looked up into Uryanaar's eyes.

"Please, set me free, Lord Farseer! Master McKenzie is in need of help!"

Despite himself, Uryanaar freed the creature from its bonds.

Without leaving his gaze from Damion, McKenzie called over his shoulder.

"Edd, you alright?"

"I'll live..." Edd muttered sourly.

With a hiss, Damion threw itself at McKenzie. Its long, silvery talons slashed through the air, missing McKenzie with a hair's breadth as the Master Lexicanum ducked out of the way. McKenzie raised his force sword and retaliated with it, only to miss Damion, who flew out of the way with a deft turn and flap of his wings.

Landing a few metres from McKenzie, Damion contracted its wings, only to unfurl them in a flash, sending thousands of small needles hissing through the air. McKenzie erected a psychic shield to protect him from the tiny shurikens, though a few of the psykers were less lucky. They fell to the floor after being hit in the head by the monomolecular edged discs. Though the majority made it through, Uryanaar's hastily erected shield could not protect those who were to close to the untouchable Pariahs.

Edd powered up a psi blast and sent it towards Damion, who had lowered its untouchable shield for a split second to fire the shurikens. The psi blast hit Damion in the side. Screeching in pain, Damion regained his senses and dove against Edd. The silver talons were out again. Edd swiftly ducked and Damion missed him clearly.

Meanwhile, Uryanaar helped the last of the psykers to the far side of the room. On his way, he drew the witch blade Niire from Johnny's left side, to at least have something to fight with. As the Pariah's were untouchable, he couldn't use his enormous psychic powers to beat them. So a monomolecular edged, perfectly balanced blade would have to do. Despite his old bones, Uryanaar was still an able swordsman. He had a lifetime of avoiding death behind himself. These deathless machines didn't know the meaning of the word fear, and that made them weak and prone to mistakes. To Uryanaar, they were impure just to the fact that they couldn't learn to avoid death. But he had lived with the shadow of death hanging over him since he began to wander the path of the Seer.

He deftly beheaded each and every one of the Pariahs. They didn't even get a stab at the old Eldarain.

Damion dived at McKenzie again. Through a few simple moves, McKenzie suddenly was on the back of the cybernetic C'tan. He threw his arms around Damion's neck. Damion flew around chaotically, trying to buck McKenzie off.

During all this, Edd takes the chance to remove the gag from Johnny's mouth.

"You all right, Johnny?" Edd asked.

"Double D!" Johnny exclaimed. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys!"

"Hang on half a mo, I'll get you loose." Edd said and started to work with the bandings. He was interrupted in his work by McKenzie, who landed on top of him after having lost his grip.

"Thanks for breaking my fall, Epistolary," McKenzie grunted.

"My pleasure, Master Lexicanum," Edd growled back.

Edd and McKenzie got to their feet and turned to face Damion. They concentrated energy into focused balls of psychic power and fired several shots against Damion, who simply shifted its anti-psychic field around to ward them off. During one brief lapse of psychic hellfire, Damion lowered its field and fired a volley of shurikens against the two Marines, forcing them to erect psychic wards.

Damion took its chance and dove in against them, aiming its silvery talons against the chest plates of the two, intent on ripping out their hearts. Edd and McKenzie ducked out of the way milliseconds before being hit and Damion smacked into the device that Johnny was connected to with a wet sound. It turned; shifting its untouchable ward around to dissipate the psychic attacks against it and fired another round of shurikens at the Marines.

As Damion dove against McKenzie and Edd once more, Johnny suddenly turned his head to Plank's side.

"Huh, what was that? Plank, are you nuts?" Johnny asked his lifelong friend. "Yes, I know how serious that is, but that's no reason to do something like that. And don't you raise your voice like that!"

Edd shot McKenzie a meaningful glance as they overheard this peculiar monologue, at least it seemed so to them. They both started to wonder what the heck Johnny was talking about, when Damion reminded them that it was far from done with any of them.

"Plank, I don't know about this," Johnny said hesitantly, "isn't there some other way? Alright, I know, but I still don't like this."

Johnny concentrated on the wooden plank. Plank slowly rose through the air. Uryanaar let go of Niire as the sword wanted to make itself loose from his hand. Niire swept over to Plank. Niire touched Plank, and the piece of wood settled around the grip of the sword. The two swept through the air together, as if fused to one by some unfathomable will.

McKenzie and Edd had understood their duty early on. They had to lie in even harder on Damion to keep its attention away from the small plank of wood and the Eldarain witch blade floating through the air.

After a few pressing moments, Niire and Plank suddenly flew forward. Niire embedded itself deeply into Damion's back, almost all the way up to the haft. A shrill shriek pierced the air. Damion hopelessly grabbed and fumbled for the sword, but had obvious problems reaching it.

McKenzie and Edd took their chance. With Damion's attention elsewhere, it had no time to raise his anti-psychic shield. They combined their power into one big blast at let it fly.

The psychic blast hit Damion fly in the face, knocking it off its feet. Damion flew into the strange energy device in the centre of the room. It went through the outer layer of glass and the energy inside the tube started to surge through its body, overloading it. Damion started to twitch wildly, as the electrical surges swept through its body short circuiting it. If Damion had been mortal, it would've been explained as a seizure.

After a few silent moments, the device exploded, taking Damion with it. Edd and McKenzie dove for cover and table with Johnny strapped to it was knocked over by the blast. As the debris settled, McKenzie and Edd picked themselves up and went to unstrap Johnny.

"Come," McKenzie said as they struggled with the straps, "we've done our job. Let's help the psykers to the teleport site."

"Right," Edd replied. "Come on, Johnny. Johnny?"

The moment Johnny was free of his straps he jumped off the gurney and walked over to the middle of the chamber. He started to dig through the remains of the large device that had electrocuted Damion.

"Plank?" Johnny called. "Where are you? Come on, buddy, shout out!"

Johnny soon found Niire, but not Plank. He started to dig again, this time using the witch blade to cleave the larger chunks of debris.

"Come on, come on... oh, no."

Johnny bent down and reached his hand into a hole in amongst the debris. McKenzie and Edd looked on, silently.

"Plank?" Johnny asked, with a slight tremor in his voice. Slowly, Johnny pulled Plank out the hole. Or what was left of the board of wood.

It'd been ripped in half, the lower part attached by a very small margin of sinewy wood-tendons. McKenzie walked over to the boy and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Johnny's lower lip was quivering.

"Easy there, Johnny," McKenzie said softly. "He's not done yet. We'll get him back, fix him and he'll be as good as new, you'll see."

"You...you think you can help him?"

"Sure we can," McKenzie said and grinned. "Easy thing! You'll just have to wait and see. Now, come on. We've got to go."

As the trio walked over to join the other psykers, Uryanaar and Skuli, something stirred behind them.

Rising, half its face missing, Damion rose like a rag doll from hell, the nanobots in his body slowly repairing his damaged body. Yet it didn't help the fact that half of its face was clearly missing. With a scream, high and whining, like the screech of distorted metal, Damion threw itself towards the threesome.

Leaping from Uryanaar's side, eager to assist his master, Skuli threw himself against Damion, to intervene the metal-deamon's path. Although Skuli was small, he still managed to knock Damion off its feet as he crashed into it. Damion's still repairing senses weren't in no way prepared for this.

With a crash, Damion and Skuli landed in a heap. McKenzie was about to move in and assist Skuli, when Uryanaar stopped him with a calm hand on his shoulder. It took McKenzie a few seconds to notice the tang of metal in the air.

"Get out! Get out of here now!!" he screamed as he realised the telltale signs of a psychic over-load. He they exited the chamber, McKenzie threw one last glance towards Skuli and Damion, but had to avert his eyes because of the glaring psych-storm that was building up. He closed the hatch-door to the chamber with a smack to the control panel.

As the hatch-door sealed shut hermetically, McKenzie saw the first strands of raw warp energy entering the real world. Deamons began to sneak out and their chilling laughter echoed in his head for a few seconds. Two of the weaker psykers fainted, the others sported nosebleeds. McKenzie moved his gauntlet up to his face and wiped off his upper lip. There was red blood smeared on it too.

And then, there was silence. Total silence. Not only around them, but also in their minds. The warp had suddenly fallen very silent in their region. McKenzie knew very well why. He turned to the others.

"Let's go," he said simply and started to walk off in the direction of the rendezvous point. The others followed him obediently, making sure to gather up the two fainted psykers before they left.

As they made it back to the meeting point, McKenzie and Edd were prepared to face hordes of Necrons, but to their surprise, they met none. They made it back to the teleport point, unharrassed, and found Charleston and Ed waiting there.

"McKenzie, where've you been?" Charleston asked and smiled.

"Long story," McKenzie replied with a sigh. "Where are the others?"

"Not back yet, but the bombs are all set. Ready to set off some serious fireworks. And believe me, there will be. They've got a singularity drive."

"Cute," McKenzie replied tartly. "It's not good they're not back yet. Johnny, I want you and Uryanaar to go down to the surface."

"What?" Johnny asked, his jaw dropping open.

"Plank needs you, Johnny, now go."

"Okay," Johnny said reluctantly and stepped up to the teleporter. "Be careful guys."

"We will," McKenzie replied and pushed a few buttons on the decoder for the teleporter. The shimmering surface activated and Johnny, Uryanaar and the other psykers stepped through it. As they'd entered, McKenzie waited a few seconds and then closed it.

"Come on," he said simply to get the others to follow him.

And so, McKenzie, Charleston, Ed and Edd charged down the corridor the McGranth and the others had gone down. As they came into the main chamber, they saw a mayhem of silvery, metal bodies and three lone, red-armoured figures. It was quite obvious that McGranth, Eddie and Kevin were having serious trouble.

McGranth was hacking left and right with his power axe, desperate to keep the iron monstrosities called Immortals at bay. Suddenly, one Immortal in front of him developed a hole through its chest, with Charleston's massive fist sticking through it. Charleston lifted his arm up and ripped the Immortal in half.

"About time," McGranth said with a smirk. "What took you?"

"We were preoccupied," McKenzie replied as he deftly swung round his force sword, pleased to see it did some damage.

And so, the four newcomers join the fray, and the battle tide starts to turn in Imperial favour.

In the chamber behind the wall, Metallix was battling with Rolf and Tanya. The large mechanoid C'tan was daring the humans to come close, its far superior reach making it hard for them to get more than quick stabs at him. As soon as they got too close, Metallix lashed out with his powerful arms, swiping through the air, leaving a hissing trail of discharged electricity in their wake.

Rolf spun round and used his acrobatic skills to their very edge, yet nothing seemed to fool this demi-god.

Metallix turned and parried their feeble blows easily. Were these inept warriors really the finest Sorn'henai could produce? Ridiculous! Metallix had been right when it'd doubted Sorn'henai's words all those years ago, that the humans were the most able of species in the Galaxy. Hah! Sorn'henai's own children had killed it, eradicated its mortal presence! Yet still, they fought. They fought for Sorn'henai, in its name, despite that they knew they had lost. Why? Metallix could not understand. Why wouldn't they give up? It'd been proven that the Necrontyr were superior to the Mon-keigh. So why did they keep on fighting? Why didn't they accept their fate of eradication by a superior race? Why?

With a snarl of annoyance, Metallix shot up in the air and landed closer to the great view-port of its chambers. Arborkar's lush green surface could be seen filling out the entire view-port. It was beautiful, yet none in the room had time to stop and stare at the beauty of the green jungles and blue seas.

Metallix lowered its rifles on its forearms, charged them and strafed the chamber with Gauss beams. Rolf and Tanya ducked for cover behind a massive adamantium pillar.

"This is getting us nowhere," Rolf growled impatiently. He was bruised in several places and his hair had a slight frazzle from an electric shock that got a little too close.

"We're not finished yet," Tanya replied. She sported several small cuts on her arms and a small head wound. Blood was running down her lean cheek, and just like Rolf, she'd early lost her peaked officer's cap.

"If only I could get close enough to get a proper swing with my sword at him..." Rolf muttered sourly and held the Yarrickian sword close to his eyes. There wasn't even a speck of oil on it.

"I doubt he's going to stand still and let you," Tanya said with a sarcastic smile. Tanya lapsed into silence for a few moments and then shone up.

"Rolf, I have an idea!" she exclaimed and leant closer to him and whispered her plan. Rolf took a quick glance round the pillar and nodded as he looked back at Tanya. He pulled out his bolt pistol and handed it to Tanya, who drew hers as well.

"Be careful," Rolf said.

"Right," Tanya replied, not quite listening. "One... two... three!"

The two dashed from cover. Rolf charged straight at Metallix, dodging the Gauss beams for dear life. One caught one of his coattails and atomised it. Rolf came up close with Metallix and started to hack at him with his sword, forcing the C'tan on the defensive.

Tanya charged towards the great glass view-port and started to fire the two bolt pistols in her hands. She pulled the triggers twice, three times, four, five, six... She didn't stop firing until the clips were spent and twenty-four bolt rounds had landed into the glass view-port. The view-port started to crack open.

"Rolf, duck and cover!" she screamed and went for cover behind a pillar.

Rolf heard her cry and ducked out of combat, coming in safety just before the view-port gave away and splintered.

Tanya and Rolf regrouped behind the same pillar. As the air was swiftly being sucked out, the snapped on their rebreathers. The roar of the rushing air was horrible, but thanks to the vox-link built into the rebreathers, Tanya and Rolf could communicate despite it all.

They both dared a look round the bend of the smooth pillar. Rolf gasped when he saw that Metallix was hanging on to the bottom ledge of the room. Its strong, bionic arms held it firm from bring sucked out into the vacuum of space.

To his terror, Rolf saw how the mechanic monstrosity was slowly crawling back in. He felt Tanya grip him right arm, as if she was steadying herself. But instead, she wrung the Yarrickian sword from his hand and jumped round the corner, allowing herself to be sucked towards Metallix.

Metallix looked up as Tanya came flying towards it. It raised its left arm to protect itself from the inevitable swing that would come.

It offered no protection at all. The essence of the Wolf ran strong in Tanya's blood. The Deamon Slayer sword easily cut through the left arm of the mechanic deamon. The C'tan lost its grip with the other arm out of pure shock. With a wordless cry, Metallix tumbled into space.

Tanya clung onto the ledge now. She'd dropped the Yarrickian sword to save herself from the same fate as Metallix. Yet that seemed impossible to avoid. There was only one way of stopping this nightmare. She looked down. There were shutters. But, she reasoned, they wouldn't close if something was in the way, would they? Otherwise they would already have engaged themselves. Wouldn't they?

She looked up, straight at Rolf. She smiled sadly.

"Rolf," she said softly, "I want you to know, it has been an honour. And tell my son, I love him."

With that, Tanya let go of the ledge and allowed herself to be sucked out into the black vacuum of space.

"TANYA!" Rolf screamed, regaining his senses just in time to not run out from behind the safety of the pillar.

The shutters began to close. They shut without a sound and a hissing sound was heard in the room as a gas mix of seventy-five per cent nitrogen and twenty-five per cent oxygen filled the room.

Rolf came out from behind his cover and ran up to the shutters. Metallix' severed left arm lay on the floor. It had dug itself into the metal with its fingers in some sort of self-preservation mechanism. It mattered not to Rolf. He banged his fists against the shutters, in vain. They would never open again.

Rolf sagged to his knees, his palms flat against the surface of the shutters.

"Tanya," he whispered.

Yet, on the other side of the wall, the battle between flesh and steel was far from over. Everybody was fighting for dear life, yet there seemed to be an endless stream of Necrontyr. It suddenly went up for McGranth what this war was all about. It wasn't about fighting for Humanity's freedom. It wasn't about Good, not even Evil. The Necrons had no perception of Evil or Good or Freedom. This fight they were fighting was about one thing, and one thing alone:

The lives of every mortal soul in the entire Galaxy. A Holocaust of all biological life forms.

If they lost now, they would seal the fate of all biological creatures alive, Human, Ork and Eldar alike.

They couldn't be allowed to fail.

But the odds were mounting against them.

Kevin and Eddy kept close to each other. They were making way, albeit slowly, towards the Grand Controller CPU.

"We can't keep up this forever!" Kevin growled and cracked the head of an Immortal.

Eddy glanced at the Grand Controller. "Maybe we don't have to," he said. Kevin looked Eddy squarely in the eyes. He understood what Eddy meant.

"No way," he said slowly.

"What other way is there, Kevin?" Eddy said and cocked an eyebrow.

"But, why me?"

"'Cause you're the jock," Eddy said with a smirk.

"Oh, man," Kevin sighed and put his helmet on. "Alright, set it up."

After clearing a circle around himself and getting into position, Eddy got down on one knee and cupped his hands in front of him. Kevin came running up to him, planted one of his boots into Eddy's hands. Eddy pulled up his hands with all the force his Terminator armour could muster and Kevin went flying, somersaulting through the air. In the end, it became a neat, if painful, head butt, shattering the armoured glass tube surrounding the crystal CPU of the Grand Controller.

Cooling fluids were everywhere as they escaped the broken glass. The huge crystal was swept out together with the escaping fluids and rolled across the floor. It stopped at McGranth's feet. He looked down at it.

"Well, well, well..." he muttered. "It's you who've caused such trouble, eh?"

He raised his power axe above his head and sent it down into the crystal with force enough to cleave a Leman Russ Battle Tank in two. The crystal split in two and the eerie glow died away from it.

All the Necrons suddenly stiffened and froze dead in their motions. All the mortals in the room looked around and held their breaths. Still, the Iron Men didn't move.

From behind where the glass tube had been, Kevin slowly got up, rubbing his head. His helmet was on the ground, shattered.

"Man," he muttered. "Next time, I'll take tails instead."

Back down of the surface of Arborkar, the Necrons stopped moving just as they had up on the Sphere. Guardsmen and Battle Sisters alike stared at the metal men, dumbfounded. Why in the name of the Emperor would an enemy just stop moving, be it a machine or deamon?

The Kankers and Nazz stood around a group of Immortals and scratched their heads.

"Hey," Nazz said and pushed a Necron testingly, "What happened?"

"Hi girls!" Johnny said as he came up to them from behind. He had stopped to leave off the psykers at a medi-station and had taken the chance to fix up Plank with a little wood glue, and a bandage. It was whole again, much to Johnny's relief.

"Johnny!" Nazz said, shocked. "Where did you come from?"

"Well," Johnny said slowly. "I'm not really sure, because my parents won't tell me."

There was a moment of deadpan silence, and then Lee picked Johnny up and held him to her face.

"Where are our boyfriends?"

"Oh, the Eds," Johnny said and seemed to understand after a moments thought. "Everybody else is up on the Sphere. Boy, what happened out here, anyway? It looks like a battlefield!"

Up on the Sphere, the wall opened as Rolf slowly walked out of Metallix' chamber. He was dragging Metallix' severed arm behind himself.

"Hey, Rolf," Charleston said as he spotted young man. "There you are. Uh, where's Tanya?"

Rolf just sadly shook his head. He dropped the arm, collapsed on the floor and started to sob into his hands. Everyone watched him, but no one uttered a single word. It was easy enough to guess what had happened.

McGranth closed his eyes and bit his tongue. The war for biological life was won, but at what cost. Tanya's fate was one of millions, nay billions. He was the one to break the silence.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he said curtly and motioned for the group to move out. Kevin and Eddy hoisted Rolf up and led him as the party slowly made their way back to the teleporter site.

"All set?" McGranth asked as they got to the site. McKenzie connected himself with the alien electronics.

"Ready."

"Charleston?"

Charleston produced the remote for the bombs.

"Got it," he said and showed it to McGranth, unnecessarily.

McKenzie began working the controls of the teleporter from his data slate whilst Charleston keyed in the final sequence on the remote control. Then he tossed the remote away.

The teleporter activated and the group stepped into it. Just as McGranth, who was the last one in, put his right leg into the teleporter, explosions from deep within the Sphere shook the entire structure of it.


	13. And Then There Was ED part 2

The infiltration party came back to the material world in the belly of Mishkin's Pride. They all looked like true heroes returning home from a victorious battle, except for Kevin, who clutched his hands over his stomach and looked like he needed a bucket, quick.

"How I hate that..." he choked silently.

The sharp eyes amongst the Tech-Priests noticed that they were fewer than they had been when they'd left. But being as they were, they made no attempt to remark upon this. However, Admiral Ourmnoff remarked on this, and with a loud voice to boot.

"She what?" he shouted, unable to grasp the idea of Tanya's death. "She can't be. God-Emperor of Mankind, she can't!"

"She is," Rolf grunted back. His voice was choked with sorrow. "I saw it with my own eyes! She gave her life to make sure we all could live on. She is to be remembered as a true Heroine of Mankind!" Rolf turned his head away. "She managed to be what I couldn't..." he added silently. Only Demontfurt understood the meaning of these last words to the full.

"I know you all are very down-hearted over this," Demontfurt began, "but we have another problem to worry about. How are we going to get the people on the ground up here?"

McKenzie sat down hard. "Teleports?" Demontfurt shook his head. "What about the transports?"

"One way only, I'm afraid," Demontfurt replied.

"Oh, frekk..." McKenzie said silently and rested his head in his hands. "This gets better and better," he said silently with a voice full of sarcasm.

"What do you mean, Master Lexicanum?" Ourmnoff asked, wearing a look that said he knew what was to come.

McKenzie waved a tired hand at Charleston, who started to explain about the singularity drive.

"Frekk..." McGranth swore silently when Charleston finished.

"You don't need to be a tech-magos to understand one thing," Ourmnoff said softly. "When the Sphere hits Arborkar's atmosphere, the atmosphere will evaporate almost instantaneously." He paused for a second. "Burning everything on the ground beyond recognition..."

Demontfurt lost his commissarial cool completely. "We have to get them off the planet! Somehow! We have to!"

McKenzie looked up at the colonel-commissar. "And how would we do that, commissar? In less than two hours, the Sphere will hit Arborkar's atmosphere. We need that time to get out of the way from the blast wave. No doubt, Ourmnoff has already signalled the fleet to disengage from the gravity pool around Arborkar."

"So..." Kevin said silently, McKenzie's words finally dawning on him. "We have to abandon the folks on the ground?"

McKenzie nodded.

"Are you nuts!" Kevin screamed. McKenzie visibly reeled from this outburst. "What about our friends down there? Are they just to die? They've contributed just as much as we have to this mission!"

McKenzie remained silent, so Kevin turned to Ourmnoff.

"Turn us back to Arborkar, Admiral! We have to save them, we have to-"

"Save Nazz?" McKenzie said in a low voice. Kevin snapped round.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me," McKenzie replied with a smirk. "It's all about Nazz. I read you. But listen to me. You can't save her like that. You'll only manage in getting yourself killed. And this will all be in vain. Consider this: if we survive, the people who die on the ground can still live on in our memories. They won't if we go back. They'll be lost forever. So, anyone who wants to vouch against getting out of here, speak now." 

No one spoke. Only a cold silence filled the air. Was this the price they had to pay for victory?

On the ground of Arborkar, the Imperials were slowly regrouping and accounting the numbers that remained of them. It was a dismal figure.

Masterson was looking a data-slate over when somebody screamed, the young girl named May he guessed.

"It's coming down!"

Masterson turned his head upwards and stared at the crashing Sphere. The bloody thing was coming straight towards Arborkar!

"This was expected," he said to the soldiers around him. "They won't leave us... behind..." Just as he spoke, Commissar Tomas Masterson saw how tiny blips up amongst the stars flickered and became smaller. He knew that Battlefleet Moskva had disengaged.

"This is not good," he heard Canoness Demontfurt mumble next to him.

"That will be remembered as the worst understatement in Imperial History, Canoness," Masterson replied to her with a wry smile.

"Only if we get off world," Alyssia Demontfurt replied.

"We're finished!" May wailed behind them. Alyssia and Masterson turned round and glared at her. Lee was more vocal.

"May, shut up!"

"That's right," Marie agreed. "We'll have to think our way out of this. Right, ma'am?" Alyssia nodded.

May was silent for a few moments.

"We're finished!" she wailed again.

"May, shut up!" Lee shouted back.

"You're demoralising the troops," Masterson grumbled. "As if we didn't have enough as it is..."

"Okay, look," May said, trying to ward off Marie, who'd been prepared to silence May with a fist. "I'm better now. Can I only say one more thing?"

"Sure, go ahead," Lee muttered.

"We're finished!"

There was a thumping noise and May went to the ground, knocked cold.

"That takes care of that," Marie said and looked pleased. Alyssia smirked. She liked the style of these sisters. A bit rough, perhaps, but pragmatic. Sure, any sister of the Adepta Sororitas should be devout and just, but they shouldn't be too idealistic. Too bad they were going to end it here. Like this.

"Any idea cropped up yet, commissar?" she asked Masterson.

Masterson bit his lip in thought and then said "I can only see one way out of here. You want to hear the long version, or the short one?"

"We don't have much time, make it short."

"We're finished."

Pandemonium.

"Lee, want me to knock him too?" Marie asked, sounding too hopeful.

Nazz, meanwhile, had been talking to Johnny and the old farseer, Uryanaar. The old Eldar had been talking about a Craftworld and anti-grav points and lots more that Nazz didn't understand. Part of her suddenly regretted not having seen 2001: A Space Odyssey. Perhaps Uryanaar's talk had made more sense then. She told him to follow her to Commissar Masterson and Canoness Demontfurt. Perhaps they'd understand better.

"Canoness," Nazz said as she approached from behind. "The Lord Farseer here has a suggestion on how we can get off-world."

Demontfurt stopped Masterson from making a snide remark just in time. She nodded her head towards the farseer.

"Please, Lord Farseer, share your thoughts with us."

"As you please, Canoness Alyssia Demontfurt," Uryanaar replied in his flawless Low Gothic. "I have recently felt this strange sensation in the Warp flux. I barely felt it whilst aboard that Sphere, but now, once free of the Pariahs' horrible presence, my senses are whole and I can see with my sixth sense again. What I sense is a strong... how can I put it... humming through the Warp. It exists on only one wavelength and there's only one thing that sends out such a hum: wraithbone."

Silence followed. Uryanaar felt slightly irritated over the Mon-Keighs' ignorance.

"Wraithbone is what makes up the main structure of an Eldarain Craftworld," he explained. "And each Craftworld 'transmits' on its own wavelength. This one happens to belong to Craftworld Vurupano, my home world."

"And how is this information going to help us?" Masterson sneered.

Uryanaar smiled softly at the brutish human. "It means we have a way of getting off-world. If I can hear the Craftworld, it can't be far away. Not more than a few days travel with your technology."

Masterson raised an eyebrow in mock query. "A few days? We have minutes!"

"I know," Uryanaar replied. "But I didn't say that Vurupano was to come here. I meant that we were to go to Vurupano."

"Huh?"

"Of course," Alyssia whispered. "They'll teleport us out of here. I've heard of wraithbone, but I've never truly believed in it."

"What exactly is wraithbone?" Lee asked.

"A super-conductor for psychic power," Alyssia said. "Or so the rumours go."

Uryanaar nodded. "I believe that Canoness Alyssia is getting the idea, as you Mon-Keigh say. Now excuse me, I'll need to inform Vurupano of our situation and our requirements."

"Hang on a second," Masterson muttered. "Is that alien witch saying that his people is going to help us off-world? With Warp-sorcery?"

Alyssia nodded.

"Never!" Masterson shouted. "I would rather die here, than to depend on the fickle benevolence of an alien! And a witch, add to that! They're going to teleport us off world with Warp-magicks? I have little trust to machines, but even less to witches, the Warp and the hellish spawn of the same. No, I'd rather die here!"

Alyssia turned round. "Would you?" she asked sharply.

Masterson looked stumped. The look in Alyssia's eyes spoke volumes. Here they had an Eldar who was willing to help them. Should they throw that away? The enmity between the Eldar and Humans was deep and old and had to do with different cultures and views on the Galaxy. To Alyssia, Commissar Tomas Masterson was at the moment personifying all of the contemptible, racist sides of humanity. True, the Eldar could be incredibly arrogant at times, but they didn't hate the Human race.

"Would you rather stay here, Tomas Masterson?" Alyssia asked again.

Masterson looked down and shook his head.

"As I thought."

A few moments later, Uryanaar strode back to the Human 'headquarter'.

"Vurupano is only willing to oblige. There has, over the course of the millennia, been several times when our races haven't been able to fully agree on certain points. But those times are past. See this as the first gesture from my race that we Eldarain are prepared to help you Mon-Keigh, cost whatever it might. Sooner or later, even the most conservative Eldar must understand that you Mon-Keigh, or should I say Humans, are the new race to rule the galaxy."

"I thank you for your kindness, Lord Farseer," Alyssia said and bowed her head. Uryanaar made a gesture to her not to.

"No, I should thank you. If it hadn't been for your brave warriors, I'd still be a captive up there." Uryanaar pointed towards the Sphere. Its edges were glowing red now.

"Speaking of which," Masterson injected. "When can we expect to be off this dirt ball?"

"Any moment now," Uryanaar smiled.

Masterson was to reply when a rainbowish shimmer swept itself around him. The world seemed to slow down and each colour got grossly exaggerated before it faded away into a greyish nothing. Then the world faded away into blackness, only to explode into a cascade of colours and shapes. He knew all too well what this was.

He was seeing the Warp.

They were being transported.

Aboard Mishkin's Pride, McKenzie was silently reciting the Catechism of Solitude in an attempt to calm his galloping sense of guilt. How could he have been so blind? How could he have missed something so crucial? This was the worst kind of sacrifice: an utterly pointless one. This wouldn't have to happen.

But it was.

Yet, McKenzie reflected, the Imperium had always been liberal in its usage of human life. So why would it be different now? What did the individual matter? It was the Imperium that had to survive, right?

Something crossed McKenzie's mind. He'd read all history books he could find in the library when he'd come to Terra, just to acquaint himself with its history, and he recognised the reason of the Imperium now. It was just... the Terrans shunned this thinking. On Terra, every individual was important. Everyone mattered. Anyone who died an unnatural death was a death in vain to them. Yes, war happened, was frequent even, but it had become less bloody.

Because generals and field marshals had learned that all their men mattered. They all had families.

"The time on Terra made me soft," McKenzie muttered sourly. "The Seed of the Imperium is the Blood of Martyrs." He was silent for a while. "Yet, why does that sound wrong to me? In my heart of hearts, it feels revolting!"

McKenzie raised his head in disbelief and disgust as he recognised the reasoning at final. It was the reason of a fascist, of a national socialist: a nazi! And of all criminals McKenzie had read of in those history books, the Nazis were the worst.

McKenzie suddenly saw the parallels. Witches- no, psykers, and mutants were the Jews of the Imperium. They were. The Imperium had extermination camps for the mutants and psykers.

"God-Emperor," McKenzie muttered. "I think I'm going to be sick..."

Then something flashed through his mind. A bright arc of lightning that seared his psychic eye.

Edd came running into the small chapel where McKenzie had sat all alone.

"McKenzie!" Edd shouted. "Did you feel that? That lightning, just now!"

"I certainly did," McKenzie replied grimly and got up. "Come, we need to get to Admiral Ourmnoff. I have a few coordinates for him to adjust our course to."

There was a bright flash of light and Masterson found himself on solid ground again. He sagged down and hugged the ground. Uryanaar leaned down next to him and held out his hand, palm up. There was something white and sugary in it.

"Salt?" the old Eldar asked with a kindly smile.

"Why?" was all Masterson got out. He felt sick.

"To equalise the balance of salt in your body. That's why you feel sick right now. I should've told you, perhaps."

Masterson got into a sitting position and held out his hand. He took the sodium chloride gratefully and licked it all up. He felt better after a few minutes and looked around. They were in the vast belly of Craftworld Vurupano now, no doubt. At least the hundreds of Eldar in light brown robes milling about, helping the humans, told him as much.

"We frekking made it," Masterson muttered. "Unbe-frekking-lievable."

"I said I'd make up for my race, and I'm an Eldar of my word," Uryanaar said and got up. He slowly walked away to join with his kind, and no one tried to stop him.

"Lord Farseer!" Master shouted after him after a moment's thought. "How long until Battlefleet Moskva gets here?"

"A few days, at least, commissar," Uryanaar replied in a normal voice-level. "Don't worry, we'll stay put here and treat you as well as we can."

"Oh-kay," Masterson said to himself and tried to get up. The effects of abating adrenaline was coming to him now, so his legs just curled up underneath him. He couldn't stand for a moment's worth. So he decided he'd lean back and have some rest.

Lee and Marie picked up the sleeping commissar an hour later, when the Eldar had managed to get some place for the thousands of Mon-Keigh to sleep.

A few days later, Masterson found himself being woken by a sound by his bed, opened his eyes and looked into Alexander Demontfurt's blue eyes. Masterson understood that Admiral Ourmnoff's fleet had caught up with them now.

"Alex?" Masterson said softly and sat up. "Did we do it?"

Demontfurt nodded slowly. Masterson saw the look in Demontfurt's eyes.

"What is it, Alex? Out with it!" Masterson did not like the eerie feeling he was getting.

"Tanya died." Demontfurt replied silently. Masterson nodded. Nothing more needed to be said. The two commissars didn't say anything for a long while.

The day came when the Imperials had to leave Craftworld Vurupano. The loading of soldiers had taken several days, and the farewell was quickly approaching. For Tomas Masterson, the day didn't come too early. He stretched himself to his full height, which wasn't a very impressive thing to do, and took a deep breath. He'd looked forward to getting off the craftworld ever since they'd got there. True, he had warmed towards the alien Eldar a bit, but he was still cold towards them. Yet, there was but one question he felt like putting, before they left. He just had to.

He found McKenzie, Charleston, McGranth and the Terrans gathered together to say farewell to Uryanaar and his farseer colleagues. He walked up to them and heard McKenzie speaking in the weird tongue of the Eldar.

Alien gibberish, Masterson thought to himself.

McKenzie stopped talking and Lord Uryanaar replied, in the same tongue. After a while, Uryanaar slipped over to Gothic instead.

"So, please, accept our heartfelt thanks. You have managed to rid the Galaxy of something we could not. Let this day mark the beginning of warmer relations between our kin."

"I hope so too, Lord Farseer," McKenzie replied in High Gothic. "I'll work for the integration of the Eldar in the Pax Imperia, as long as you don't show hostility towards the Mon-Keigh."

"Well, my dear Master Lexicanum, I can vouch for Craftworld Vurupano, but I can't speak of the other Craftworlds. Sorry. They have their own agendas."

"I understand completely, Lord Farseer."

McKenzie bowed and the Terrans, McGranth and Charleston followed suite. After that, they left for the transport to take them to Mishkin's Pride. Masterson, However, remained behind.

Uryanaar turned towards him.

"And what is on your mind, Colonel-commissar Tomas Masterson?"

"I have this question, Lord Farseer," Masterson began slowly.

"Go on. Questions can't harm anyone."

"You Eldar have existed far longer than the Human race. So you must've gotten quite a few answers to some very important questions through time. My question is; what is the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything?"

Lord Uryanaar looked up, thoughtful, for a short while. Then he turned his gaze back to the stocky human and smiled.

"The answer to that question is forty-two."

"42?" Masterson asked, nonplussed.

"Yes. I think you should join your friends now, or else you might have to stay here."

Masterson bowed deeply, still a bit confused over the answer and hurried to join the other humans about to leave Craftworld Vurupano.

Several hours later, when Mishkin's Pride and the other ships of Battlefleet Moskva had left, one of the farseers that had accompanied Uryanaar when Masterson had spoken to them, approached Uryanaar in his chambers. He walked up to the old lord farseer, bowed deeply in reverence and asked Uryanaar directly.

"Lord Uryanaar?" one of the other farseers asked. "Is that really the answer to the Mon-Keigh's question?"

"No, Farseer Irawn, it isn't. But I must say Terran Mon-Keigh author's have a fertile imagination."


	14. And the Story EDs

﻿**And the Story EDs**

_"Through space and time _  
_Coast to coast _  
_You are always with me _  
_A Holy Ghost _

_As You follow _  
_And trust in me _  
_So I shalt follow _  
_And believe in Thee _

_I go to battle _  
_Holding high Your torch _  
_With its Holy Fire _  
_The enemy I'll scorch _

_With the Slayer's sword _  
_In my hand _  
_I strike down the enemy _  
_Their tainted blood searing the land _

_'Tis the blood of daemons _  
_Creatures forlorn _  
_Upholding my promise _  
_The blood oath I swore _

_In battle the wounds _  
_Scar my face _  
_Before I fall _  
_I give over to Your Grace _

_The Dark Lord's soul _  
_In its unholy might _  
_I grant to You _  
_Then I descend into the Light_

_Son of Eagle, Son of Wolf _  
_Slew the enemy from youth _  
_I am the Slayer of Daemons _  
_The Warrior of Truth"_

**--Warrior of Truth, written by Sebastian Yarrick, Imperial Commissar**  
_Actually penned by Cerion..._

**_Data Log entry:_** Bastion Yarrick  
_Chairman of the Civilian High Council_  
**_Date:_** 734.435 IF/001 NI

**Personal Journal **  
**Enter password:**   
_"I can hardly believe it's been an entire month since the Necron threat ceased to exist. The Imperium lives on, despite heavy losses. I honestly believed that the celebrations that started that day would never end, but it has now died down and the rebuilding has begun. _  
_"On that fateful day, my mother, Commissar General Tanya Yarrick sacrificed herself for the better of the Imperium. Through the help of the Eldarain, her body has been recovered, as well as the Yarrick family sword. _  
_"Now all that remains to do, is something I wish I never had to do."_

Bastion put down the data-slate as he heard a soft knock on the door. He knew that knock.  
"Come in," he said and watched as Commissar Colonel Alexander Demontfurt entered the room, clad in full dress uniform.  
"It's time, isn't it, Alex?" Bastion said with a sigh.  
"Yes," Demontfurt simply replied. "Shall we go?"  
Bastion nodded, and then slowly shook his head. "I need a few moments to collect myself, Alex. Get my emotions in control. You don't mind, do you?"  
"Not at all." Demontfurt walked over to Bastion. "I won't say I understand how you feel, sir, but I can say I have something of a similar feeling in my heart."  
Bastion looked up at the tall and powerful political officer. He stood up slowly and then embraced Demontfurt. Demontfurt tried hard not to shrug from the young man. He answered the embrace, although reluctantly.  
After a few moments, Bastion detached himself and walked out of his office, Demontfurt in tow.  
They caught a transport to a very familiar place, at least for Bastion Yarrick. It was a farm yard, out in the fields of County Invas of Callidus. A long time ago, Bastion knew, a madman had burnt the farm to the ground, but it had been rebuilt not many years later. It was the Yarrick family property. Where the main living house had once stood, a shrine had been erected. It was small, the size of a village church and made in a sober architecture very typical to Callidus.  
Bastion and Demontfurt entered it.  
The shrine served as the Yarrick family tomb now. Many of the family Yarrick were now laid to final rest here, and one more would now be added. They went towards the burial place of Bastion's father. When they got there, Bastion looked sadly at the two sarcophagi. One of them held the remains of his father. The other one was empty, but not for much longer. Soon, his mother would join his father in the eternal sleep. Together again, after so many years apart.  
Bastion checked that everyone was there. The Terrans, McKenzie, Charleston, McGranth and Masterson. He hadn't wanted a huge burial. That would've made his grief even harder to bear.  
The ceremony began, led by Demontfurt. The coffin, an ornate thing made of mother of pearl and gold, was brought in by servitors that rolled along on soft wheels. They slowly put the coffin in the sarcophagus next to Bastion's father's.  
Bastion didn't quite listen to what Demontfurt said. He was busy focusing his mind on something else. His eyes fell on the many statues in the shrine-tomb. One statue or bust for every member of the Yarrick family. They were innumerable. The largest one was of Hrodwulf Le'man himself, and it dominated the Altar of the Aquila.  
Bastion wasn't the only one with his attention elsewhere. McKenzie was thinking hard about the things that had happened lately. He threw a glance at Masterson and read the man's mind, as softly as he could. The sturdy commissar seemed quite beat down. McKenzie couldn't believe what he felt from the man's emotions. McKenzie's surprise made him incautious and Masterson noticed someone was reading him. He turned and shot McKenzie a devastating glare.  
Demontfurt finished his part and motioned to Bastion to rise. The young man did so, took Demontfurt's place and began to speak.  
"My dear friends, because that is how I see you all, I thank you thoroughly for coming here at my request and joining me as we put my mother, Commissar General Tanya Yarrick to rest. I could probably go on for ages, saying what an asset she was to the Imperium etcetera, but I won't. Because you already know all this. No, I want to tell you about Tanya Yarrick, the mother.  
"She took care of me, although she had a hard time doing so. What amazes me is that she decided to have a child, despite being a commissar. I can't even begin to fully understand what drove her to that decision, though, as I've read some of Commissar General Rolf Yarrick's memoirs, I've begun to understand at least a little of it.  
"But I wasn't her only child. She saw all her soldiers as her children, and treated them with the same love and concern a mother would show, but for all that she wasn't indulgent. Quite the contrary. In all she did, she was loving but also stern. I think that is what made her such a good leader, and mother. She had an innate grasp of psychology and knew well how to use it. Although she never admitted it, she was a better politician than I can ever hope to become."  
Bastion stopped and stifled a sniff of sorrow.  
"I'm sorry. It's just... It's been over a month, and in my heart I know she's gone forever, but my mind... it can't accept it. I had so much more to do together with her, to ask her and to learn from her. There's no chance for that now. I can't and won't blame anyone. I won't even blame the Necrontyr. All I can say is, that my mother showed the greatest kind of love anyone can show.  
"She died to save the Imperium, because, being a commissar, she loved that more than anything; more than me or father or anyone alive."   
Bastion bowed his head quickly to disguise the tears that had welled up in his eyes.  
"Thank you for listening."  
He walked back to his seat and sat down. Demontfurt tried to comfort him, but was shooed away. Quietly, for being him, Masterson managed to get the others outside as the servitors placed the lid of the sarcophagus in place. As they walked out, McKenzie heard Bastion whisper "Good-bye, Mommy," to the coffin. The Master Lexicanum quickly turned away, shutting the young man's sobs out. The full brunt of all that emotion could kill him if he wasn't careful.  
Half an hour later, Bastion had recovered enough and went outside and walked up to the Terrans, now back in their own clothes. Bastion's eyes were puffy from tears, but he tried to keep his face up.  
"Now," he said as he approached the Terrans, "I think it's time for the second ceremony of the day, something a bit more cheerful."   
"Aw," Eddy sighed, "do we have to?"  
Bastion laughed, but it sounded forced.  
"Yes, Eddy," he replied. "You have to. Come on."

They returned to Vindaree with the transports. Bunkered up as they were in Chimeras APCs, the Terrans had no idea of where they were, until they got unloaded. They stepped out into a large square. The Eds remembered it from their first time here. This was the spot where the high anchor harbour of the Cardinal Boras had been. Obviously, the sky-scraper was gone. This was some sort of ground zero.  
In the centre of the square, there was something big, hidden by a large piece of dark green cloth.  
"Now," Bastion said and turned to McKenzie, Charleston and McGranth, "on to business. First, you three."  
Bastion walked over to the three Marines. McGranth didn't seem to like what was happening, and neither did Bastion, apparently.  
"Grand Commander McGranth, Commander Charleston and Master Lexicanum McKenzie," Bastion began. "You have fought in the Name of the Emperor and for the Emperor since times untold. Because of this it is my duty, and my pleasure, to officially declare you Heroes of the Imperium and bestow upon you the status of Holy Defenders of Mankind."  
McGranth silently rolled his eyes.  
"Are we done yet?" he muttered.  
"You are," Bastion replied with a smile. Charleston and McGranth removed themselves from the group, but McKenzie remained. "Now, for the rest of you." The Terrans looked around sheepishly, trying to avoid each others gaze and finding a friend's eyes at the same time. They did not exactly like this idea.  
"You have shown," Bastion began, "that even the smallest of worlds can produce the greatest of heroes. Today, I have three more duties to perform. Firstly, I will award you these." An aide stepped up next to Bastion, holding a purple velvet box. The aide opened the lid of the box, revealing ten gilt, double eagle medallions on purple and gold bands. Each one of the Terrans received an eagle medallion around their necks. Bastion then stepped back to survey them all. He nodded one single time in approval of what he saw.  
"You are Outlaws no more. From this day on, the High Council, the Neo-Inquisition and the Commissariat officially recognises the Omega Squadron as Imperial Warriors and a part of the vast Imperial Army. After your return to your home world, a new phalanx is going to be formed within the Imperium. A phalanx of specialists that are to respond to any threat against the Imperium, alien or domestic. And they shall be named the Omega Squadron.  
"And, speaking of your home world, Terra, which you have fought so bravely to defend alongside the Imperium... I hereby award you, on the mission of the High Council, with the title 'Defenders of Terra'. Wear it proudly, Omega Squadron. Your world will one day join the Imperium in all its glory, but until it does, I leave the safety of Terra in your hands.  
"And finally, my last duty for today, is to do this."  
Bastion made a gesture and the present servitors removed the green cloth. As the cloth slid away, a statue, cast from rockcrete, was revealed. It showed the ten members of the current Omega Squadron, standing ready to defend themselves with a resolute look on their faces.  
"May this statue stand as long as our glorious Imperium does. In that way, we shall never forget our comrades from beyond the borders of Imperial Space."  
Eddy gawked at the large thing. "Oh brother... was all that really necessary?"   
"Yes, Eddy," Bastion smiled. "The warp gate has been prepared, so it will soon be time for you to return to Terra. Master Lexicanum, if you would?"  
McKenzie stepped forward, carrying a wraithbone staff, a last gift from the Eldarain. He walked past Bastion and towards a spot in between the wreckage that once had been a skyscraper. He brushed away the dirt from the warp socket and started to chant in Eldar. The staff began to glow. Brighter and brighter until it almost hurt to watch it. McKenzie then raised the staff over his head, calling out to the Eldar god Asuryan and drove the staff home into the socket. Quick as lightning he turned it a quarter of a turn and stepped away. A bright beam of multicoloured energy shot out of the staff and into the sky.   
Then there was sudden silence.  
"What the frekk was tha-" Masterson began but the psychic beam returned with a scream that drowned out all other sound. It struck down into the wraithbone staff, shattering it into a thousand tiny shards.  
As the dust settled, a swirling kaleidoscope of colour denoted the presence of the warp portal.  
Eddy sighed.  
"Man... I can't believe this is it. After all we've been through... This is really the last time, right?" Eddy walked towards the swirling portal.  
A low rumbling was heard as Charleston and McGranth came driving up with an unarmed troop-carrier.  
"Hey!" McGranth called. "Hold up a minute!"  
Eddy turned to look at his physical copy. "What's this?"   
McKenzie smiled in that impish way only he could. Eddy reflected it was strange to see Edd's features like that.   
"Well," McKenzie began as he moved to the back of the troop carrier, "we wouldn't want you guys to leave empty-handed, now would we?" He threw down a hatch at the back and pulled out some crate-like oblong boxes. "These boxes contain your respective swords, the lightning claw glove, the power fist, Niire and this bag contains Yarrick's greatcoat and cap." He showed them that the boxes were tagged with names.  
"I don't understand," Edd said. "Why are all these things here?"  
"We had a bit of a chat amongst ourselves," McKenzie said as he handed Edd his force sword, "and we all decided that you couldn't leave without souvenirs. So that you can remember us and what you've done."   
"I got permission from the High Council," Bastion inserted. "You can take them with you, but only if you wish."  
"I don't know about this," Kevin said dubiously as he hefted the box containing his power fist.  
"Go on," Charleston beamed. "Their yours. So you can do whatever you like with them."  
"But, McKenzie," Johnny said nervously, "I can't take Niire."  
"Yes, you can, Johnny," McKenzie said and smiled softly at the boy. "It's yours. I gave it to you as a gift, remember?"  
Rolf had opened his bag and was looking down into it, at Yarrick's coat and cap. For some reason, he felt very uneasy about them. "I don't know," he said slowly, "these things don't really fit me anymore."  
Bastion looked at him. "I want you to have them, Rolf. My mother would have wanted you to." Rolf merely nodded his agreement to this.  
McKenzie ignored Rolf and Bastion and walked up to Nazz. "I wouldn't want to forget this now," he said and pulled out Saint Nazerine's Crozius Arcanum from one of his leg pouches and hung it around Nazz's neck.  
"McKenzie, I-" Nazz began, blushing ever so slightly.  
"No," McKenzie cut her off, "it's back where it belongs now." Nazz's blush deepened.  
"Alright... I guess..." she whispered. McKenzie smiled and stepped back to survey the Terrans.  
"I believe you're all ready to go now. Just one more thing. A small favour to ask; can you keep an eye on our bikes back there?"  
"Sure," Eddy replied with a smile. "We'll take good care of them."   
McGranth appeared next to McKenzie. "Well, I can't say it's all been fun... mostly a lot of running, shooting and screaming... but I don't regret a minute of it!"  
Eddy grinned, but there was sadness in it. "We're gonna miss you guys."  
"Oh, don't get weepy on me," McGranth admonished. "Just take care, and I'll be happy. I hate long farewells so off you go now." McGranth shooed the Terrans jokingly towards the portal, making them laugh and loose some of the tension that had built up. When Kevin stepped up to the swirling maelstrom of the warp-portal, he gulped.  
"Oh no," he muttered, "not this again."  
Eddy pushed Kevin slightly in the back. "Get over it. It's the last time. Ready? Go for it!"  
The Omega Squadron of Terra/Earth, Space Outlaws and Alienhunters, their souvenirs with them, stepped into the swirling portal, disappearing from view and going back to their world and time. McKenzie uttered an alien sounding phrase which closed the maelstrom shut.  
Bastion started to move away from the spot. "Come on, you three," he called over his shoulder. "One last bit of business to settle." McGranth and Charleston walked after Bastion, but McKenzie remained where he was.  
"McKenzie!" Bastion called, thinking the psyker was perhaps lost in thought.   
"You go first," McKenzie called back. "I have a... thing to settle fisrt."  
"What thing?" Bastion asked.  
"Psyker business. Nothing you should worry your little head about, Bastion. I'll join you later."  
As the others drove off, McKenzie followed them with his eyes for a while until he finally turned and looked at the lone attack bike and its owner. As the dust settled, Commissar Masterson's face became visible. McKenzie smiled.  
"Something on your mind, Tomas?" he asked.  
"Yes," Masterson replied. "Quite a lot, in fact. You could almost say I need advice."   
"I thought you were going to chew me out for reading you back at the funeral," McKenzie said and raised an eyebrow.  
"No... I was to, at first, but now... I can hardly be bothered. I know you can't read thoughts. Just emotions. You know what I felt there."  
"Yes, it quite startled me. The depth of your grief... I don't want to probe it further, if that's what you want me to."  
"Heck, no! No... I might as well tell you; Tanya's late husband was my brother. Thus, Bastion is my nephew. My only nephew. My brother, bless his soul, meant very much to me, being a civilian. When he married Tanya, I respected that. Although I'd wanted him to marry someone with a slightly less... 'provocative' profession. But... emotions can't be steered. Not by normal people at least."  
"I see where you're getting at," McKenzie snapped rather irritably. "Did Tanya know you were her husband's brother?"  
"That's the tricky bit. I was stationed elsewhere when they got married. I found out months later. So I planned on going to see them as soon as I could. As I travelled to meet them, nearly a year later, I was met by the message that my brother had been killed by the first wave of the Necrontyr. He'd died a mere month after Bastion's birth. I feared then that Tanya would break under this pressure but I'd clearly underestimated her. The result was that she fought the Necrontyr with an almost unerringly keen hate."  
"Did you get to see her and tell who you were then?"  
"No... I was stationed at the front and she was pulled back to organise the defence from Callidus and Ichar. After all, she was the most senior officer in the Commissariat in that sector at that time. I was an ordinary line commissar. And when I many years later got stationed in her staff, Bastion had almost grown up and Tanya managed better than ever. I didn't want to mess their life up again. To make her emotionally dependent again. She'd suffered enough."  
"So you never told either of them?"  
Masterson shook his head.  
"You loved her, didn't you? And you love Bastion too?"  
"Yes," Masterson sighed.  
"I think it's selfish of you not to come forward and inform Bastion that he has family still alive. He could use it. So, fess up and start acting like the uncle you are!"  
"I don't want to be a burden to him McKenzie. He has a great responsibility on his young shoulders."  
"You won't be, trust me. It is my firm belief that the thing that makes Humanity so strong is our ability to love. Matter of fact, I think it was love the made Rolf Yarrick so strong and unrelenting in his defence of Humanity against all enemies it could face, alien or heretic. He always surrounded himself with people he held dear in some way. And I think I have figured out why. It was so he would never forget what he was fighting for.  
"So tell Bastion who you are, Tomas. Tell him and he'll most likely fight harder than ever to rebuild the Imperium, as he has something to lose if he doesn't."   
"I understand," Masterson said and smiled sadly. "Maybe we should go after the others, so they don't worry about us?"  
As Masterson mounted his attack bike, McKenzie made an apologetic cough. "I think I'll have to hitch a lift with you, commissar. It seems my brothers have left me without a means of transportation."   
Masterson laughed out loud and gestured to McKenzie to hop into the sidecar.

Using McKenzie's psychics to find the way the others had driven, they pulled in by what used to be a star-port. Bastion, McGranth and Charleston were waiting for them.  
"Now then," Bastion exclaimed, "you might have time for me, all three of you Space Marines. Follow!"  
McKenzie, McGranth and Charleston followed Bastion, Masterson lagging behind a bit. The walked to one of the smaller hangars and went into it. Inside, under the light from glow-globes was a red painted Thunderhawk.  
Charleston made a double-take when he saw it. "Waitaminnit... Isn't that-"  
"The Thunderhawk you pockmarked Secondus surface with, yes." Bastion finished for him. "The Night Hawk, I believe you called it."   
"But," Charleston said suspiciously, "I thought it was totalled."  
"Amazing what a few good Tech Priests can do, isn't it?" Bastion mused. "And I believed the Death Angels' Legion wanted it back in tip-top shape."  
"Huh?" McGranth exclaimed. "But our legion is no more... It's been disbanded."  
"Well, I can't have you sitting around here all the time, can I? Also, to make sure you are out of my hair, I give you this." He handed a wrapped document to McGranth, who was so swept up in the moment he simply accepted it. "It's a Carte Blanche, giving you full right to travel with any Imperial Navy vessel you want," Bastion explained.  
"Is that so?" McGranth said and smiled a lopsided smile.  
"So," Bastion asked, "what will you do now?"  
"Firstly," McGranth said, "we'll go back to Ichar and do a spot of spring cleaning, you could say. And then... who knows? There's plenty still to do for three old Space Marine commanders. Maybe we'll gather a band of surviving loyal Marines and tow the Galaxy as Outlaws. For your protection."  
With that, McGranth suddenly saluted Bastion and made to board the Night Hawk. McKenzie and Charleston followed suit and Masterson and Bastion Yarrick left the hangar as the ship powered up for lift-off.  
The Thunderhawk made its way through the vastness of space back towards Ichar a few hours later. Charleston sat lost in though for a moment as he surveyed the coordinates one last time.  
"What's up with you?" McGranth asked after a while, having watched his old friend.  
"Well," Charleston began, "I was wondering. After all that's happened, don't you think we'll stop doing this someday? Fighting, I mean."  
"I suppose so," McGranth said scratching his chin. "I mean, even Space Marines have to die, eventually."  
"Speak for yourselves," McKenzie remarked with a wry smile. "Personally, I plan to live forever."  
McGranth and Charleston just stared at him, which made McKenzie laugh out loud. After giving McKenzie a reprimanding look, McGranth turned to Charleston. "Hit the boost already..."  
Charleston did as ordered and the Night Hawk sped up, leaving Callidus behind it.

Back down on Callidus, Bastion Yarrick had returned to his family tomb. He wasn't quite done with it yet, but what he was about to do was something he wanted kept as secret as possible. The Imperium's safety hung on it, in a way.  
He stood in front of the Altar of the Aquila, facing the statue of Hrodwulf Le'man.  
"So, I guess it all comes back to you. I get the feeling it was always meant to be this way," Bastion whispered to the statue.  
The statue of Hrodwulf was standing tall, hands clasped over one another in front of the stomach, as if resting on something poleshaped. Bastion had seen the tiny slit in the rockcrete of the floor earlier and realised the purpose of the statue. Could Rolf Yarrick have foreseen this day? How was that possible? If not...  
"McKenzie, you weasel..." Bastion muttered silently as he removed the Yarrick sword from his back and slowly unwound the red velvet that was wrapped around it. The Imperial Navy had been able to recollect the sword against all odds in the blackness of space. Of course with a little help from the Navigators on board.   
The last strip of cloth was removed from around the sword and fell to the ground with a hush-like noise. Bastion carefully fitted the sword into the slit and in between Hrodwulf's hands.  
Bastion stood back to get a better look. The sword looked strangely small wedged into the statue, but he figured it was because of the scale. The statue was larger than Hrodwulf had been in life, after all.   
"May this sword protect us, as it always have. And may we never have to use it again," he said and turned to walked towards the entrance.  
"Bastion?" a voice suddenly called from one of the pews. Bastion turned sharply and saw Masterson standing in shadow of one of the other statues, Caspar Yarrick, Bastion saw.  
"Tomas," Bastion said, "what brings you here?"  
"A long story," Masterson said and approached Bastion. "However, if you have time, I'll tell it to you in its entirety."  
The two men walked out of the Yarrick Chapel, Masterson talking. As they left, they closed the door behind them, leaving the Yarrick sword in the hands of Hrodwulf Le'man.

_**++New Imperial year 521, five hundred years after the destruction of the Necrontyr++**_

That same door opened again and a man walked in, followed by a small group of people. There were a few Imperial Guardsmen and a pair of Sisters of Battle. The leader wore the black coat and peaked cap of the Commissariat. His skin was slightly tanned and his black hair had a shade of blue to it.  
He walked up to the Altar of the Aquila and stood in front of the statue of Hrodwulf Le'man. He studied the sword in the statue's hands, dusty from many years of not being used. There wasn't the slightest speck of rust on it.  
"So," the commissar said, "the legend is true. The deamon slayer sword is real."   
He picked it up and hefted it slightly in his hand, testing its weight. The blade glowed faintly as he touched the hilt.  
Suddenly, the door to the tomb-chapel was thrown open and small band of heretics and mutants entered. The saw the Imperial and gave off a shrill battle-cry.  
The commissar calmed his comrades.  
"The taint still lingers on this holy place, but we are not alone! The Legends of Old are with us today! For the Emperor!"  
The Imperial soldiers echoed the last three words and charged the Chaos filth. The commissar, wielding the sword, leads them.

_**And thus the Legend of the Eagle, the Wolf and the Hound of Chaos continues...**_


End file.
